The
following new reporting of how the "ordinary" person is being screwed.
We suggest periodic
information on THE SCREWING PROCESS.
(An excellent beginners book to learn about the screwing process is:
The Screwing of the Average Man, by Charles Hapgood. The top
15% need to screw the bottom 85% for the system to work.)
Each of the following SCREWED
you!-
- Enron, with related
scandals.
- Accounting/banking/stock
analysts screwing (Trillions lost)
- California Energy Crisis
- Off-shore tax shelters by
wealthy and corporations.
- Mutual Funds scandal
(small screwing of the average guy)
- Corporate overseas tax
cuts ($135 Billion)
- Abusive tax shelters
(IRA-related--CLICK HERE)
- FAILED PENSION PLANS
(CLICK HERE--will scare the hell out of you)
- Even the
Germans are doing it, shafting the workers on their pensions.
- We taxpayers fund the
occupation of two Mideastern countries ($87 Billion)
- Medicare ????? Is this
next on the list?
- Social Security ???? Or
this?
- Pension
Troubles = S.&L. Collapse?
- When the
wealthy shelter their money, you are indirectly screwed.
-
U.S. Insurer of Pensions Says Its Deficit Has Soared
-
'American Dynasty': Family Lies
-
Red Ink Realities
-
'The Progress Paradox' and 'The Cheating Culture':
Happiness Math
-
'Bull!' and 'Origins of the Crash': Executives Gone
Wild
-
Democratization of Debt
(Your money rather than banks now make investment loans)
- Screwed by
the IRS
- Screwed by
Life Insurance Brokers and Companies
- Work
earnings taxes more than twice investment earnings (you poor
workers)
- Tax Relief
Charade
- While the
Politicians Fiddle, America Goes Broke
- Homeowners
Come Up Short on Insurance
- Social
Security Privatization.
- Worried
about YOUR taxes?
- Will your
retirement be screwed along with all that's above?
-
The Apocalypse Now and the Brave New World, by Richard Moore
- The
Untaxed Rich, Found and Then Lost
- Iraq and Oil

The
Secret Life of a Retirement Account
By LYNNLEY BROWNING and DAVID CAY
JOHNSTON, THE NEW YORK TIMES
Published: November 11, 2003
In 1997, Congress gave retirement
savers an attractive deal: put after-tax dollars into a Roth I.R.A.
and withdraw all future investment gains and contributions without
ever paying another penny of tax.
For some people, that is apparently
not enough. They have sought to put in money on which they have never
paid taxes, vastly exceed the annual contribution limit of up to
$3,500 and reap much greater wealth.
The Internal Revenue Service, as part
of a crackdown on abusive tax shelters, has been pressing an action
against one of the country's biggest accounting firms, Grant Thornton,
to force it to disclose the names of clients it advised to shelter
millions of taxable dollars in Roth I.R.A.'s via shell corporations.
How such a shelter worked and how it was promoted is vividly detailed
in a lawsuit brought by a former Silicon Valley executive against
Grant Thornton over the shelter he was sold.
The lawsuit - and the stepped-up
activity by the I.R.S. - are indicative of how tax shelters are no
longer only for huge corporations and the superrich. Financial
arrangements that might have once been structured to shelter tens and
hundreds of millions of dollars in taxes are now being used for the
mere millions of the simply wealthy, like those who enjoyed windfalls
on salaries, stock and options during the Silicon Valley technology
boom of the late 1990's. Such a democratization of the use of tax
shelters threatens to strain the resources of tax enforcers and add to
the burden of taxpayers.
Grant Thornton declined to comment on
the lawsuit or on the tax shelters.
But according to documents filed with
the lawsuit, Grant Thornton called its corporation-owned Roth I.R.A.
shelter strategy GIFT, or Generating Income Free of Tax, and promoted
the shelter in marketing brochures marked "confidential."
One brochure, full of descriptive
arrows, described the shelter this way: Set up a shell company and a
Roth I.R.A., then make the Roth I.R.A. the effective owner of the new
company by transferring shares of and tax-free dividends from the
shell company to the Roth I.R.A. Next, have the shell company pay
tax-free dividends, of any amount and from apparently any source, into
the I.R.A. One benefit of GIFT, according to the brochure: "savings
for higher education."
One shelter client was William C.
Ross, a software sales manager. Mr. Ross filed a lawsuit against Grant
Thornton and a smaller accounting firm, Raymond Creal, in June 2002 in
a California state court, saying the two firms sold him a bogus Roth
I.R.A. shelter that violated federal and state tax laws, committed
accounting malpractice and breached their fiduciary duties.
According to his lawsuit, Mr. Ross
first learned of Grant Thornton's shelter in the months after November
1999, when Red Hat Inc., a software company based in Raleigh, N.C.,
acquired Cygnus Solutions, a competitor in Sunnyvale, Calif., where
Mr. Ross was then a vice president. Mr. Ross received approximately
35,000 Red Hat shares and options as part of the acquisition, and
wanted to sell his stock quickly, his complaint says.
In early January 2000, a friend
referred Mr. Ross to Robert Mather, an accountant at Raymond Creal in
Fountain Valley, Calif. Mr. Mather put him in touch with A. Blair
Stover, a senior tax manager at Grant Thornton in Kansas City, Mo. The
two men told Mr. Ross that he could sell his Red Hat - and any other -
stock tax-free by setting up a small investment company in Nevada,
where there is no income tax, and a Roth I.R.A. that would buy the
investment company.
Stock sales are usually taxed at
capital gains rates, while options given to employees are usually
taxed at the same rate as wages.
By Jan. 26, 2000, Grant Thornton had
established Mr. Ross's Nevada-based shell company, the Ticor
Acquisition and Investment Company, and his Roth I.R.A. Mr. Ross
contributed $2,000 in cash to the Roth I.R.A., then the legal yearly
limit. He then transferred all his Red Hat shares, at one point worth
millions of dollars, to the shell Nevada company, according to court
papers.
The total cost for the shelter for Mr.
Ross was $135,000. The fee, Grant Thornton said, was tax-deductible.
I.R.S. regulations prohibit
self-dealing with Roth I.R.A. plans.
Grant Thornton, in an unsigned letter
to Mr. Ross dated Jan. 26, 2000, while not explicitly declaring the
shelter legal, said that "the proposed structure does not violate the
self-dealing rules.''
Among other things, the letter cited a
1996 ruling, Swanson v. Commissioner, which led the I.R.S. that year
to drop its challenge to a transaction in which a taxpayer's I.R.A.
became the shareholder of a newly formed shell corporation that
exported goods for the taxpayer's operating corporation.
That complex ruling was made a year
before Roth I.R.A.'s were signed into law, and involved, among other
things, foreign tax issues apparently not present in the Grant
Thornton shelter, said Edward A. Slott, an accountant in Rockville
Centre, N.Y., and publisher of Ed Slott's I.R.A. Advisor, a
newsletter. "I don't care which way you dice it, you cannot self-deal
in a Roth I.R.A., and that's what's going on here,'' Mr. Slott said.
The Grant Thornton shelter, he said,
is the kind of arrangement "where you send up all the smoke screens to
make it look like you're not doing what you're really doing."
An I.R.S. representative did not
return a request yesterday for comment.
In its summons to Grant Thornton,
served on Oct. 10, the I.R.S. wrote that it "is concerned that Grant
Thornton has structured the Roth-I.R.A. owned corporation strategy to
enable individual taxpayers to violate the limitations on annual
contributions allowed to Roth I.R.A.'s, and to avoid taxation on
corporate dividends."
In a Jan. 24, 2000, letter to Mr.
Stover of Grant Thornton, Mr. Ross wrote that he would pay any taxes
and interest, but not fines or penalties, should the I.R.S.
successfully challenge the validity of the plan, as the agency now
appears to be doing.
Until then, wrote Mr. Ross,
transferring the Red Hat shares to the Nevada shell company "will have
no tax implications whatsoever to me," while subsequent sale of the
stock "will be a nontaxable event."
For the sale, Mr. Mather of the
Raymond Creal accounting firm referred Mr. Ross to James Audley of
Rochdale Investment Management, a New York-based firm with an office
in San Francisco, to sell his Red Hat stock. Rochdale is a privately
held investment counseling firm, with a brokerage unit, and could
"more advantageously sell the stock in the Roth I.R.A., and could
manage the money once the stock was sold," according to the complaint.
Rochdale officials did not return
calls for comment.
On Feb. 15, 2000, Mr. Audley sold
20,000 of Mr. Ross's Red Hat shares for approximately $1.5 million,
according to the complaint, and placed the proceeds in his Roth I.R.A.
According to court papers, Mr. Ross had not spent the proceeds as of
June 10, 2002, according to court papers. Under federal law, taxpayers
must be 591/2 and have held their Roth I.R.A. for at least five years
to make tax-free withdrawals.
Mr. Ross, whose age is not known, did
not return repeated calls to his home requesting comment. His lawyer,
John W. Clark, of Palo Alto, Calif., provided a copy of the complaint
but declined to comment.
The I.R.S. is already investigating
Grant Thornton and other accounting firms, including KPMG, over a
number of other tax shelters. The I.R.S. commissioner, Mark W.
Everson, vowed last month to clamp down on promoters and users of
abusive tax shelters at all levels, and the Senate Finance Committee
held hearings on corporate shelters.

Failed Pensions: A Painful Lesson in Assumptions
By MARY WILLIAMS WALSH, THE NEW
YORK TIMES
Published: November 12, 2003
Robert M. Bowden retired from his job
as accounts manager for a large trucking company with a plan to travel
for himself.
But his company's pension plan
collapsed this year, and his annual payout was cut to $24,000 from
$48,000.
Mr. Bowden and other retirees of the
company, CNF, see a culprit. In a lawsuit, they accuse the company of
failing for many years to set aside enough money in the plan. The
company did this, they say, by assuming they would retire much later
than they really did. Though the CNF plan offered full benefits to
people as young as 55, the company projected people would stick to
their desks until they turned 64.
A look at documents made public in the
retirees' fight at CNF and at a few other companies, including US
Airways and Bethlehem Steel, shows that companies have great leeway to
tweak certain crucial assumptions about the future — when their
workers will retire, how long they will live, and which way interest
rates will move, among others.
A year shaved off an estimate here, a
decimal point's difference there can significantly reduce a company's
pension obligations on paper. The company can save millions of dollars
in pension contributions.
But if a company shortchanges its
pension fund year after year and the company then gets into trouble,
the plan that looked healthy can fail, seemingly out of nowhere,
leaving workers stranded.
"I'm in a financial survival mode,"
Mr. Bowden said. At 59, he recently refinanced his mortgage in Lake
Oswego, Ore., to conserve cash while looking for a cheaper place to
live.
Assumptions that the government
considers inadequate contributed to the demise of almost all of the
roughly 150 pension plans that failed in the last year. Current
detailed information about pension plans is not routinely disclosed,
however.
The painful lesson for employees comes
as companies press Congress for permanent relaxation of some
provisions of the pension funding law. One measure, passed by the
House in October, would allow companies to make more favorable
interest rate assumptions for the next two years while a panel works
on broad changes to the pension funding rules.
Two other bills, recently passed by
different Senate committees, would extend the interest-rate change
beyond two years, and one of them would also suspend a measure
intended to punish companies that let their pension plans become
severely underfunded. If Congress does not act before a stopgap
measure expires at the end of the year, companies will be forced to
make large mandatory contributions.
Companies generally contend that the
funding requirements are out of step with the current financial
environment. CNF has not filed a response to the retirees' suit, and a
spokeswoman said the company could not comment on the dispute.
According to a rule of thumb used by
actuaries, though, every year's difference between the company's
projection and the age at which the employees actually retired might
have understated benefits by about $15 million.
"There are ways companies can kind of
game the system, to contribute a lot less money than is realistic,"
said Jeremy I. Bulow, the Richard Stepp professor of economics at
Stanford University's graduate school of business. Essentially, he
said, they are trying to get a loan from the government agency that
insures pensions, the Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation, or from
their employees. "That's what they're trying to do, and it's very bad
news," he said.
To be sure, the world of actuarial
science is not the wild, wild West. Companies have been caught gaming
pension assumptions in the past and as a result some assumptions are
now regulated. Interest rate assumptions are especially powerful in
pension calculations, and the most important ones are today a matter
of statute — the same statute Congress is now being asked to modify.
Assumptions about employee life spans
are also regulated today, after General Motors was found in 1994 to be
assuming its workers would die younger than Ford's. Workers who die
young will have collected smaller total pensions, reducing the
corporate contributions. Today, all companies are supposed to use a
standard mortality table, though some companies are lobbying Congress
for more leeway there as well.
For other assumptions — about pay
increases, staff turnover, marital status, retirement ages and other
factors — there are no hard and fast rules. The law says only that
assumptions must be reasonable; that term can mean different things to
different people.
US Airways and AMR's American
Airlines, for instance, have found it reasonable in recent years to
assume that their pilots will retire when they turn 60, because the
Federal Aviation Administration grounds commercial pilots when they
reach that age.
"Pilots enjoy flying and typically
it's an avocation in addition to being a job," an American Airlines
spokesman said. "A lot of pilots would even work past 60 if they
could."
After US Airways' pension plan for its
pilots failed this year, however, the government looked at the age
when they were actually retiring and found that lately, more than half
have been retiring well before their 60th birthday. The Pension
Benefit Guaranty Corporation is arguing in bankruptcy court that the
airline should have assumed that the pilots would retire, on average,
at 56. The agency, an unsecured creditor, is in court seeking a
portion of the reorganized airline's stock to help cover its cost of
paying the pilots' benefits.
Because the government insures
pensions only up to certain limits, the US Airways pilots will lose,
in total, about $1.6 billion in anticipated benefits, according to the
pension agency.
Documents in the US Airways case also
show how powerfully a pension plan can be affected by an assumption
that seems only slightly off the mark. An analysis supplied by US
Airways' actuary, Towers Perrin, suggests that when the airline
assumed its pilots would retire four years later than they really did,
it shrank the amount it appeared to owe them by about $385 million.
That, in turn, meant it contributed less to the plan.
"In every dimension that was possible,
they made the most aggressive actuarial assumptions they could," Mr.
Bulow said in an interview. He submitted testimony on behalf of the
government in the US Airways case.
Towers Perrin declined to comment on
its retirement-age assumptions, citing its policy not to discuss
matters before the courts. US Airways, in court documents, stands by
its assumption that pilots will retire at 60 in the future. It notes
that the defunct pension plan has been replaced by a new benefits
package that will reward pilots who keep working as long as possible.
The airline also argues that the
government is forcing it to make an inappropriate assumption about
interest rates in its calculations, in an effort to grab a larger
portion of its stock. The judge is expected to resolve the dispute in
the coming weeks.
The retirement age was also a factor
in the costly demise of Bethlehem Steel's pension plan. Bethlehem's
actuary, Aon Consulting, assumed the work force would retire at age
62, even though the company offered pensions to much younger workers,
as long as they had 30 years of service. Other actuaries said that
assumption was highly questionable, and that it was an important
factor in the Bethlehem plan's record $3.7 billion shortfall when it
failed.
A spokesman for Aon said the firm
could not comment on a client's affairs. Bethlehem itself has been
liquidated. The government estimates that Bethlehem's work force has
lost, over all, about $400 million in promised benefits.
At CNF, the pension troubles grew out
of the freight company's decision, in 1996, to spin off its
unprofitable Consolidated Freightways unit. Consolidated, a unionized
long-haul trucking business, was losing money in the mid-1990's,
dragging down the parent company's performance. CNF was meanwhile
building up a separate nonunion trucking business that was profitable.
By 1996 the two divisions were competing head to head in some markets.
When it spun off Consolidated, CNF had
to split its pension fund and put some of the money into a new fund
for the departing work force. Such transactions are regulated;
companies must certify to the Internal Revenue Service that they are
transferring enough money to cover the benefits the departing workers
have earned.
Mr. Bowden and his fellow retirees
said that when CNF calculated their benefits, it assumed that most of
them would retire at 64. But many Consolidated managers retired in
their late 50's, they say, to take advantage of generous early
retirement benefits the company offered to people whose age, plus
years of service, added up to 85.
Steven M. Tindall, the retirees'
lawyer, said that by using a higher retirement age in its
calculations, CNF was able to put less money into the spun-off pension
plan.
"We think this is a way the company
saved some money," said Mr. Tindall, a partner in the law firm of
Lieff, Cabraser, Heimann & Bernstein in San Francisco.
He and the retirees also said that CNF
used an inflated interest rate in its calculations, further reducing
the amount it put into their pension fund. Born weak, the new pension
fund was then underfed each year, they believe, because CNF continued
to administer it using inappropriate assumptions.
Consolidated's retired managers, like
Mr. Bowden, said they had no idea this was happening until it was too
late. They said they were never even told the pension fund had been
separated from CNF, much less that it was withering away.
Chester Madison, a group operations
manager for Consolidated, said that just before he retired, in August
2002, he asked about the pension plan and was told it was "fully
funded." Two weeks later, Consolidated filed for bankruptcy. Four
months after that, he and the others began receiving letters saying
the plan had failed. It had less than half the assets needed to pay
their benefits.
"You feel betrayed," said Mr. Madison,
whose monthly pension check has been reduced to about $1,700 from
$4,100. He has been looking for a job to make up the difference. "Not
too many people are going to hire you when you're 58 years old," he
said.
Even Consolidated's retired president,
Thomas A. Paulsen, was surprised. At age 59, with 36 years of service,
he had earned a pension of $9,755 a month. When the plan failed, his
check was reduced to $1,876. He believes CNF spun off Consolidated
with insufficient resources, to "send the old dog out to die."
Employees at all levels are supposed
to get basic information about their pension plans once a year, but it
is difficult, if not impossible, to check the validity of the
underlying assumptions. Companies are not required to disclose
current, detailed information about their pension plans. They do list
three actuarial assumptions in the footnotes of their annual reports,
but retirement age is not among them.
More details about pension plans are
on file at the Labor Department, but those records are generally at
least two years out of date. And even if an employee goes to the
trouble of getting the numbers, they are difficult to decode without a
complete understanding of the company's demographics.
Mr. Bowden recalled that CNF hired him
in 1967, when the company was expanding rapidly and hiring lots of
baby boomers. They were entitled to early retirement, and the plan
failed just as they were claiming it. The government's pension
insurance has limits to begin with, but those limits are reduced even
more for those who retire before age 65.
"There's hundreds of thousands, maybe
millions, of people, who believe that the P.B.G.C. will guarantee
their pensions, and it's not the case at all," said Robert Newell, a
retired Consolidated vice president. His monthly pension has been
reduced to $2,025 from $5,357.

December 7, 2003
COUNTING DOWN
Pension Troubles =
S.&L. Collapse? Some Say Bank on It
By MARY WILLIAMS WALSH
In 1985, a financial consultant named Alan Greenspan was
hired to write an opinion letter on behalf of a fast-growing
California savings and loan association. The future Fed chairman
praised the institution's managers for building it up "to a vibrant
and healthy state, with a strong net worth position."
As it turned out, the institution,
Lincoln Savings and Loan, was taken over by the government in 1989 at
a cost to taxpayers of about $3.4 billion.
The collapse of the savings and loan
industry in the late 1980's is being evoked more and more to describe
the possible dangers ahead for ailing pension funds. If even the
sharp-eyed Alan Greenspan can fail to spot an S.&L. crisis in the
making, what can be said about the way Washington is handling the $1.6
trillion in retirement money?
Many business executives say the
similarities are exaggerated. But a group of academics and a few
officials are paying heed as they seek the best way to secure the
pensions of some 44 million Americans.
A hearing of the Senate Committee on
Aging in October dealt specifically with the comparisons. The Treasury
Secretary, John W. Snow, has mused publicly about whether history is
repeating itself.
"When you think about pensions, we've
got a brewing problem here that has some — I don't want to overstate
here — but has some analogy to the savings and loan crisis of some
years back," he told The Wall Street Journal last summer. "You've got
a lot of accounting rules; you've got a mismatch of liabilities and
assets; and you've got moral hazard."
The key in the 1980's, say experts who
are making the comparison, was an overriding impulse to overlook
warning signs — to assume that a sick industry will get better if only
given time and a little regulatory relief. The S.&L. system didn't
melt down until 1989, but its troubles started more than a decade
earlier. Years of inaction in between made the eventual bailout worse.
Now it is pension funds that are
showing signs of trouble. The law requires that companies set aside
enough money to pay the pensions they promise, but at the moment there
doesn't seem to be enough. If employers were forced to pay every
penny, right now, their funds would be more than $350 billion short.
That doesn't mean a $350 billion
bailout — or any bailout — is looming. But the numbers suggest that if
the pension system melted down, taxpayers could be on the hook for
tens or hundreds of billions of dollars.
Companies say the danger is all but
nonexistent. Pension funds, after all, do not work like banks and are
not generally susceptible to runs. They typically pay out benefits
over many decades, not one day to the next. The glacial pace of the
pension world, companies say, means today's shortfalls will be
recoverable in years to come.
But those who see parallels argue that
the population is aging, and warn that companies — especially those
with older workers — risk running out of time to cover their
shortfalls. To these analysts, the slow pace at which pensions are
paid serves only to obscure the risk.
Now, many companies are running into a
law requiring employers with big pension deficits to speed up their
contributions sharply. These payments can be huge, and executives
aren't eager to pony up.
Why, they ask, demand strict
compliance with the rules when the pension sector has just survived an
excruciating downturn, the economy is strengthening and pension plans
seem poised to recover on their own?
Rather than cracking down, they say,
the government should ease the rules. Both the House and the Senate
this week are to finish work on a pension-relief bill. One measure
would give companies a two- or three-year break on the special,
accelerated contributions.
Another would let companies use a new
method to calculate the pensions they owe — a method that would make
the total amounts look smaller, reducing the amount companies must set
aside today.
This approach takes economists like
Zvi Bodie back to the early 1980's, when the savings and loan
associations had alarming shortfalls, and Congress eased the rules.
"It's so striking, the similarity,"
said Professor Bodie, a Boston University professor of finance and
economics who has written of the lessons of the S.&L. crisis for the
pension system.
Hundreds of savings and loans became
insolvent after interest rates rose sharply in the late 1970's. The
government closed some of the sickest ones, using the S.&L. insurance
program to compensate depositors.
But the closures were costly and
politically unpopular, recalled George J. Benston, an Emory University
economics and finance professor. They added to the federal deficit, he
said, and angered the U.S. League of Savings Associations, which
ratcheted up its political contributions and lobbying.
As a result, hundreds of stumbling
savings and loans were allowed to stay open, and even encouraged to
grow, Professor Benston said. Regulators lowered their capital
requirements, and let them puff up what little capital they had with
accounting gimmicks. Meanwhile, Congress granted them the freedom to
get into new lines of business. They ventured into new. speculative
deals: real estate, venture capital, even junk bonds.
Today, said Professor Bodie, it is
pension funds that are making unorthodox investments, trying to recoup
stock-market losses by adding hedge funds, private equity and other
risky vehicles to their portfolios.
For the savings and loans, the
strategy backfired when their investments soured. And because the
Savings and loans had been encouraged to expand before they failed,
their losses were much bigger than if the regulators had simply closed
them in the first place. Analysts now estimate the total cost at $150
billion to $200 billion.
The presence of federal deposit
insurance prolonged the crisis, economists say. Depositors stayed
cheerfully put, knowing the government would make them whole if an
S.&L. failed.
Today, the existence of government
pension insurance may be encouraging risky behavior by companies and
their pension managers, said Alicia H. Munnell, director of the Center
for Retirement Research at Boston College.
"Heads they've won, tails the
government loses," she said.
The agency that insures pensions, the
Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation, is now technically insolvent,
having taken over a number of large bankrupt pension plans in recent
years. It owes retirees more, over time, than it has the money to pay.
Unlike the S.&L. guarantor, it has many years to make all the payments
it owes. But at some point, it will have to tap new resources.
No one can say when — or which
resources. Congress has the power to raise the premiums that the
agency charges companies. But so far Congress has shown no interest in
doing so.
This may turn out to be another echo
of the past, Professor Benston said. The hopelessness of the S.&L.
situation was clear by 1988, he said, but Congress staved off any
announcement of the taxpayer bailout until 1989. By then, the
presidential election was over.

PERSONAL
NOTE: In the 70's while in graduate school at Fordham University I
read The Rich and the Super Rich, by Ferdinand Lundberg
- what an eye opener! Now comes another "revolutionary" book, an
update on HOW the super rich actually accomplish their goals. I
challenge your to read
Perfectly Legal: The Covert Campaign to Rig Our Tax System to Benefit
the Super Rich — And Cheat Everybody Else,
by David Cay Johnston. This is a very RADICAL (getting to the roots of
the problem) book! A MUST READ!
ENCOUNTER
The Loophole Artist
By DAVID CAY JOHNSTON
Published: December 21, 2003
Few Americans have heard of Jonathan
Blattmachr, a partner at Milbank, Tweed, Hadley & McCloy. But among
the 16,000 or so lawyers in America who specialize in trusts and
estates, which is to say in the passing of wealth from one generation
to the next, he enjoys the status of a Hollywood star. In these
circles, his first name alone prompts recognition.
Men
(and a few women) of great wealth confide in Blattmachr. The
Rockefellers are among those who seek his counsel. Because his
specialty is maintaining wealth across time, he needs to know more
than just the size and shape of his clients' fortunes. His work
requires knowing whether a marriage is an enduring bond of love or a
commercial relationship, or whether heirs can be trusted with fortunes
or only allowed a stream of income. He knows of prodigal sons and
promising granddaughters, of executives at family-owned businesses who
will not learn for years that the brass ring was never going to be
theirs. Sometimes men of great wealth whisper secrets they would never
share with their wives. He knows how much a mistress costs or whether,
if health fails, a spouse can be trusted with the power to pull the
plug. His clients reveal these things to Blattmachr because he can
help them maintain their wealth now and for their children. He can
chart clandestine routes through the maze of the tax code, making a
man who appears as a Midas to his bankers look like a pauper to the
tax man.
Blattmachr helps the superrich keep
their riches -- at the expense of everyone else. Sometimes the price
is paid in higher taxes. More often it's paid in cuts in services or
by borrowing from the next generation of taxpayers. He's not ashamed
of this. His methods are perfectly legal. In fact, he sees himself not
as someone who exploits the system for the benefit of the few but as
the guy who keeps the system honest for everyone. For his job to have
meaning -- and to score intellectually, which is his main source of
satisfaction -- the tax system has to have integrity. It can't be
corrupt or too easily foiled. Just as there is no honor in getting a
criminal acquitted when the judge can be bought, there is no honor in
finding a tax loophole when the code yields too easily to
manipulation. His cat-and-mouse game is to work the loopholes in the
system until the government finds them and draws them closed. And when
he sees something in the code he considers egregious, he speaks up, as
he did when he objected to the repeal of the estate tax. The repeal
would ''shift the tax burden from the wealthy to everyone else,''
Blattmachr said one morning in one of his two offices, this one a
sunny Park Avenue aerie from which he can look down on the great
wealth machine that is Manhattan.
Given that shifting the tax burden one
wealthy person at a time is Blattmachr's full-time occupation, a cynic
might think that his opposition to the estate-tax repeal was just
self-interest. But Blattmachr will have plenty of work, estate tax or
not. There are always trusts to be designed and capital gains taxes to
be cleverly avoided. The superrich will always be looking for ways to
shelter their money. Blattmachr's objection to the repeal -- which, in
the end, was restricted to just one year, 2010 -- is more complicated.
It reflects his capacity to push and pull the rules to his clients'
advantage, while still yearning for an ideal, principled law.
Blattmachr's practice exists because
America has two tax systems, separate and unequal. One is for wage
earners, and most of us know firsthand that that system works
effectively. The other is for the wealthy, who control much of what
the I.R.S. knows about their finances and who in recent years have
paid a shrinking share of their incomes to sustain the civilization
that makes their riches possible. Few of us also know that this means
that the 400 Americans who reported the biggest incomes in 2000 paid
just 22.3 cents out of each dollar in federal income taxes. That is
about the rate paid by a single person making $125,000.
Wealth is more concentrated in America
than at any time since 1929. Tax specialists like Blattmachr have done
their part, but the tax code itself -- written and approved by
Congress -- also stacks the deck. Consider just a few examples. Hidden
in a 1985 law was a subsidy for cushy executive transportation. Senior
executives aren't charged for personal trips on company jets, but they
must pay income tax on the value of the flight, which is counted as
income, just like salary and bonus. The value of the flight, however,
is not based on actual costs but on a formula required by Congress,
one that discounts the value so deeply that it makes personal use of a
company jet more attractive than any other form of pay. It allows a
C.E.O. to travel in a corporate jet coast to coast for $260. But the
company gets to take a tax deduction on the jet, thus removing funds
from the federal treasury. The cost to taxpayers for that
coast-to-coast flight is thus at least $3,500.
Or consider how billions of dollars in
investment partnership profits go untaxed every year because neither
Congress nor the I.R.S. requires the partnerships to answer one simple
question: does this partnership have a domestic tax-exempt partner? If
that question were asked, and the answers recorded, the I.R.S. could
easily track down a commonly used tax dodge. It would take about
$100,000 a year to make the change to the partnership tax form and
enter the data in I.R.S. computers. The potential recovery in tax
dollars would be in the tens of billions annually. But neither
Congress nor the I.R.S. has allocated the money to change the
question.
Blattmachr's genius is in seeing the
whole and these holes in the whole. He then sells this genius to his
clients. One of his early insights was that it is entirely and legally
possible for the superrich to reap unlimited stock profits without
paying a cent of capital gains tax. The rich can do this by
manipulating charitable trusts. These trusts are a common enough
device used by generous people who own an asset, usually stock, that
has appreciated in value. Instead of selling the stock, paying capital
gains taxes, and then investing the after-tax proceeds, a person can
instead donate the stock to a charitable trust that he controls. The
trust can sell the assets tax-free and invest the untaxed proceeds.
The income from that investment -- typically 6 percent annually -- is
paid to the donor for life. When the donor dies, what remains in the
trust goes to charity.
Blattmachr took this clever gimmick
and supersized it. He figured out a way to turn that nice little 6
percent annual income stream into a torrent -- 80 percent returns a
year for two years. So on stock gains of $100 million, the owners
would get back at least $96 million, as opposed to the mere $72
million they would have gotten if they had sold the stock outright and
paid capital gains taxes. Then the trust would fold, and some charity
would get the remaining $4 million. The government would get less than
nothing since the gift to the charitable trust would create an income
tax deduction.
The technique was so aggressive that
when other tax lawyers got their hands on the plan, one of them sent
it to the Treasury Department in a plain brown envelope. Treasury
responded by instituting new rules, blocking the way to the treasure.
But Blattmachr quickly charted another route through those rules,
drawing up a new map that allowed billions more dollars to escape
capital gains taxes -- until the government blocked it, too.
Blattmachr's treasure maps do more
than just lighten the burden of taxes for his clients. Often his
strategies allow money to pass without showing up anywhere in the
official income statistics. Were these and similar transactions
counted, then the incomes of the rich would appear to be much larger
-- and the share of their incomes going to taxes much smaller.
Blattmachr is a master at exploiting
the opportunities. Always adept with numbers -- growing up he dreamed
of becoming a mathematics professor -- Blattmachr distinguished
himself at Columbia University law school with his easy grasp of
complex theoretical concepts. ''Many lawyers . . . are often
bewildered when trying to foresee what the full impact of implementing
certain actions will be,'' Blattmachr once wrote. ''I have found that
those who have studied mathematics can approach and master both the
legal principles and their effect in a way which most others cannot.''
At Columbia in the late 60's, he set
about studying Soviet law, certain he would find that it was
unprincipled, written to advance the interests of the ruling elite.
But he discovered his thesis was wrong. He concluded that ''on paper,
Soviet law was very well drafted, grounded in sound principles.'' It
was, he came to realize, the administration of Soviet law that was
monstrous.
He was fascinated to find that the
U.S. tax code was something like the Soviet's opposite: an intensely
political law that favors the ruling elite but is administered
objectively. Its secrets and intricacies have fascinated him ever
since, says Mitchell Gans, a Hofstra University law professor and
Blattmachr's good friend. ''It's Saturday morning, and Jonathan and I
have been reading, separately, the latest I.R.S. notice,'' Gans says.
''The phone rings, and Jonathan will say: 'Did you read that? It
doesn't make sense. Why is this rule this way and that rule that way?
What could they have meant by this?' And pretty soon, two hours have
gone by.''
Blattmachr is always on the hunt, and
Congress often makes his job easier. In 1997, Congress passed what its
sponsors promoted as a tax cut for the middle class and especially for
families with children. Buried in that law were many tax breaks for
the rich, some subtle and some huge, notably a sharp reduction in the
tax rate on long-term capital gains, the source of more than
two-thirds of the incomes of the 400 richest Americans.
But some loopholes are too big, even
for his liking. He was the first to expose one such opportunity buried
in the first tax-cut bill sponsored by President Bush. The loophole --
invisible to all but a very few whose brains could conceive the
pick-up-sticks consequences of the proposed law changes -- would have
allowed the very rich to avoid paying capital gains taxes at all and
would have cost everyone else dearly. Thanks in large part to
Blattmachr's sounding the alarm, the Senate did not change that part
of the law.
Blattmachr also has warned that
proposals now in Congress to repeal, rather than reform, the
alternative minimum tax would further shift the pile of pick-up sticks
to the superrich. ''There are lots of things you would not even think
about because of the alternative minimum tax,'' Blattmachr said in his
Park Avenue office. ''But if you repeal it, then there are all sorts
of things to start thinking about.''
And with that he began musing aloud
about manipulating the rules on municipal bond interest, some of which
can become taxable under the alternative tax. He is just one of
thousands of lawyers and tax engineers who, with the alternative tax
repealed, would put their minds to work helping the rich pay less.
Since there is no free lunch and since the bill for government has to
be paid, that means Blattmachr's clients simply leave part of their
bill on your table.
David Cay Johnston, who won a 2001
Pulitzer Prize for beat reporting, is a financial reporter for The New
York Times. This article is adapted from his book ''Perfectly Legal:
The Covert Campaign to Rig Our Tax System to Benefit the Super Rich —
And Cheat Everybody Else,'' which will be published next month by
Portfolio.

NEW YORK TIMES
- NEWS ANALYSIS
In Germany, Shifting the
Cost of the Pension to the Worker
By FLOYD NORRIS
Published: January 9, 2004
ARIS, Jan. 8 - German business and
government are in agreement over one thing: Both are worried about
paying the pension bills for Germany's aging work force. The result
may be bad news for workers, and more pressure on them to save for
their own retirement.
Three major German companies disclosed
plans this week to cut pension benefits for workers, with one,
Commerzbank, doing so without first consulting its workers - a move
that is highly unusual in Germany.
Advertisement
"The problem for companies is whether
they can afford the pensions in the future," said Christoph Groffy, a
spokesman for Gerling, a German insurance company that is recovering
from problems in its reinsurance business. He said workers at
Gerling agreed last month to a change that would reduce pension
benefits for most of them. That will lead to some higher-paid workers
seeing cuts of up to 50 percent in their company-paid pensions.
The Gerling move, and plans for a
change by Schering, the pharmaceutical company, were disclosed
Wednesday, a day after Commerzbank, the large German bank, announced
plans to simply halt its pension plan in 2005. Workers hired after
that date will receive no pension from the company. Workers now with
the company will receive benefits already earned but will not accrue
additional benefits.
Last month, the German government
enacted its Agenda 2010 economic package that made modest changes in
the state pension plan, which is similar in concept to the Social
Security system in the United States. The government indicated that
further money-saving measures would be considered. Officials made
clear that they hoped German workers would take more responsibility
for their own retirement, either directly or through company plans.
"They wanted to address the point that
personal responsibility of the people must increase," said Robert
Ungnad, a spokesman for Schering, which said it planned to offer a
less-generous retirement plan for workers hired this year or after.
"So they want to push personal pension schemes, and they would like to
see more company schemes. But it does not always work out that way, as
you can see from Commerzbank."
While most large German companies have
not indicated any plans to change pension benefits, and both
Commerzbank and Gerling have faced financial difficulties, the fact
that any companies are moving in that direction could stiffen union
resistance to efforts to cut the state pension plan.
That plan is financed on a
pay-as-you-go basis from payroll taxes, and remains in effect. The
economic package announced last month altered the benefit payment
schedule slightly but did not make major changes. At Schering, Mr.
Ungnad said details of the new pension plan would be set after
discussions with workers.
But he said the new plan would change
the way benefits were calculated; now they are based on how much a
worker makes in the final five years before reaching the age of 60.
The new plan, he said, would base
benefits on contributions made over a worker's career. That would end
the risk to the company that an employee would get big raises late in
a career and thereby qualify for more pension benefits.
He said that while the current pension
plan was financed entirely by company contributions, no decision had
been made whether the new one might have some worker contributions.
The current Schering plan will
continue for the existing 8,000 employees in Germany.
At Gerling, the company adopted a
less-generous pension plan in 1998, but exempted workers already
employed. Currently, Mr. Groffy said, 2,500 of the company's 7,500
workers are subject to the 1998 plan and would not be affected by its
current change, which will move the other workers into the 1998 plan.
"The other 5,000 will suffer a
reduction in the pension, in many cases of up to 30 percent to 50
percent," he said. The new plan has a ceiling on benefits, so the
largest impact will be on the more highly paid workers.
He said that workers now over 60 would
not be affected, and that the effect would be small on those nearing
that age. "Those in their 40's and early 50's will suffer the most,"
he said.
The Commerzbank move means that
employees will no longer accumulate any pension benefits other than
those under the government plan, and it aroused anger among worker
representatives, who said they had not been consulted.
"We doubt that the board's decision is
legal, and experts are investigating before discussion at an
extraordinary meeting of the workers' council on Jan. 22," said Uwe
Foullong of the Verdi Union, according to Reuters.
Commerzbank shares rose on Tuesday,
but then gave back those gains on Wednesday; the shares closed
Thursday at 15.92 euros ($20.13) a share, off 0.4 percent for the week
to date.

NEW YORK TIMES,
Business
U.S. Insurer of Pensions
Says Its Deficit Has Soared
By MARY WILLIAMS WALSH
Published: January 16, 2004
The federal agency
that insures pension plans said yesterday that its deficit had grown
from $3.6 billion to $11.2 billion in just a year and that it would
try to deal with the escalating problem by overhauling its own
investments, among other measures.
The agency, the Pension Benefit
Guaranty Corporation, said that two consecutive years of record
failures by corporate pension plans and continuing adverse market
conditions left it with a shortfall much greater than a year earlier,
which had been the previous low point in the agency's 30-year history.
People briefed on the new investment
plan say the agency intends to reduce its risk in the stock market by
investing in assets - including bonds and stock-like instruments -
that will mature when it must make payments to retirees. Steven A.
Kandarian, the executive director who will soon leave the agency, said
that the board had recently voted to change the investment policy but
declined to provide details.
Some consultants said the new
investment plan could be a model for companies that sponsor pension
plans. They have argued that the pension funds of at least some
companies are dangerously invested in stocks and may be unable to
fulfill their promises to retirees, leaving the government to make
good on them.
Zvi Bodie, a finance professor at
Boston University, said reducing stock market risk was a long overdue
improvement at the agency. "This is like saying, 'Yes, we understand
the lessons of the S.& L. crisis,' " said Mr. Bodie, who has been
writing about the agency's weaknesses for a number of years and has
compared its troubles to the savings and loan disaster of the 1980's.
Stock performance can be unpredictable, and pension payouts are
predictable, creating a mismatch, he said.
The new investment policy is a
"recognition that stocks are not a hedge against long-term fixed
liabilities,'' Mr. Bodie said.
Detailed information about individual
plans is not disclosed by companies, but pension specialists say that
about two-thirds of their assets are typically invested in stocks.
This practice allows companies to post larger investment gains when
the stock market is moving up, and accounting rules allow those gains
to bolster the corporate bottom line. Companies have so far resisted
the argument that stocks are inappropriate investments for pension
funds.
But the recent bear market
demonstrated that when stock prices fall, companies may be caught
without enough money on hand to pay the pensions they owe. Such
shortfalls become critical when the company sponsoring the plan is
itself in trouble and cannot generate enough cash to replenish the
pension fund.
At a briefing for journalists
yesterday, Mr. Kandarian noted that the agency was less concerned
about the strong, growing companies with underfunded pension plans
than with companies whose pension funds are in bad shape and are
unstable themselves.
In recent months, administration
officials have discussed ways of giving incentives to companies to
operate their pension funds with less risk.
"Should all companies be treated the
same?" Mr. Kandarian asked. "One thing we've looked at very closely in
the administration is whether the system should be more risk-based."
He suggested that rewarding companies
that handled their pension plans prudently would create a more
equitable system. As things now stand, he said, companies that keep
their pension plans healthy are, with their insurance premiums,
subsidizing companies that cannot or will not.
"We're taking companies' money that
are funding their plans, and using it to cover the companies that are
saying, 'Let me borrow from my pension plan, effectively, to see if I
can get out of my business problem,' " he said. At the moment, most of
the risk is in the plans of airlines and steel companies.
"But we shouldn't focus simply on the
issues of airlines and steel," he said. "A strong industry could
become a weak industry 10 years from now. We're thinking of this as a
long-term issue."
People briefed on the agency's new
investment policy said officials had determined that since companies
have large portions of their pension funds invested in stocks, then
the agency is, in effect, facing a double risk. The agency's own stock
investments could lose money - and the companies whose pensions it
insures could also lose money on the stocks in their pension funds.
"You kind of lose twice," said one
person briefed on the new investment policy. "If you were a
property-and-casualty insurer insuring a beachfront neighborhood,
would you also buy property in that neighborhood?"
The agency had 37 percent of its
nearly $35 billion in total assets in stocks at the end of its last
fiscal year, ended Sept. 30. The agency reported that it earned $3.3
billion on its investments last year, or a return of about 10.3
percent. That was more than enough to cover the agency's $2.5 billion
in payments to retirees last year. But the payments to retirees are
expected to grow in the coming years, and stock market gains cannot be
counted on to cover these required cash outlays every year.
By changing its investment approach,
the agency will give up the chance of earning the high returns stocks
can provide. Instead, it will earn smaller, but far more predictable,
returns that can be calibrated to cover its obligations.
About half of the agency's total
investment portfolio comes from the companies that default on their
pension obligations. When that happens, the agency takes over the
assets that are left in the pension fund, and puts that money toward
paying the pensions owed to the company's retirees. These assets are
combined with those taken from other failed pension plans. Currently,
the government invests this money primarily in the stocks of
established companies.
The agency has a separate investment
portfolio solely in fixed-income securities; this is the money the
agency receives as premiums from the companies that sponsor pension
plans. The investment requirements of this fund are set by statute and
cannot be changed by the agency or its board, which is composed of the
secretaries of the Treasury, Labor and Commerce Departments.
In addition to disclosing a record
deficit yesterday, the agency said the weakness that has afflicted
corporate pension funds for the last two years has spread to America's
union-led pension plans, which have not been a problem for the
government until now.
The government said most of the risk
posed by union-led pension plans is concentrated in two sectors,
trucking and construction. Three of the 10 union plans showing the
biggest deficits at the end of 2002 were run by the International
Brotherhood of Teamsters, according to government data released
yesterday. The government said no more-recent data on the Teamster
plans were available.
Mr. Kandarian said the agency's
deteriorating financial condition "underscores the need for
comprehensive reforms" of the pension law. The Bush administration has
been calling for major changes in the pension laws and regulations for
much of the last year. But such changes must be made by Congress,
whose members have squabbled over the best approach. Many members want
to lighten the burden on companies, fearing that if the rules are
tightened, companies will stop offering pensions entirely. The
administration has argued that unless the rules are tightened, more
and more plans can be expected to fail, leaving taxpayers on the hook.

NEW YORK TIMES,
Sunday Book Review
'American Dynasty': Family
Lies
By MICHAEL ORESKES
Published: January 18, 2004
If Howard Dean (or any other Democrat)
is elected president of the United States this year, he (or she) will
owe a debt of gratitude to Kevin Phillips. This may seem improbable.
Phillips is, of course, legendary for his blueprint of Republican
hegemony, ''The Emerging Republican Majority,'' published in 1969.
Based on the returns from the 1968 voting and previous presidential
races, it described how the rise of the Sun Belt and the suburbs,
coupled with Democratic tone-deafness on social issues, was leading to
a generation of Republican presidential dominance. The book was
''respectfully dedicated'' by Phillips ''to the emerging Republican
majority and its two principal architects: President Richard M. Nixon
and Attorney General John N. Mitchell.'' Even Watergate, which swept
away his patrons, Nixon and Mitchell (he worked for Mitchell), was not
enough to redirect the electoral flow Phillips had observed. In the
years from 1968 to now, the Republicans have won six of the nine
presidential elections (or five of eight, with one tie, if you
prefer).
Yet across those years, Phillips, like
so many Americans, has drifted away from his partisan identification.
He says he is now more of an independent than a Republican, and his
recent writing has focused in various versions on the gap in America
between rich and poor and the ways it has been exacerbated, in his
view, by the policies of Reagan and the two Bushes. News outlets still
like to label Phillips a conservative. But his politics have certainly
given more solace to the intellectual left in recent years than to the
governing right.
And now the split is personal.
''I didn't like the Bushes when I was
involved in G.O.P. politics before their two presidencies,'' he
acknowledges at the end of his latest book. ''And now I better
understand why.'' He is referring to the 333 preceding pages of
''American Dynasty: Aristocracy, Fortune, and the Politics of Deceit
in the House of Bush,'' a compendium of evils that he says have been
handed down for four generations in the Bush family.
The book makes two basic and
interlocking arguments. The first is that the United States has
entered a period of what Phillips calls dynastic politics, in which
the spouses and offspring of political figures are picking up where
their relatives left off, to the detriment of democracy. The second is
that the most important example of this phenomenon is not the Kennedys
but the Bushes, who, beginning with George W. Bush's
great-grandfathers, Samuel P. Bush and George H. Walker, assembled
wealth and power by exploiting ties to Wall Street, arms merchants,
the American intelligence apparatus and foreign dictators including
Hitler. That wealth and power, and those connections, are why Bush is
president today, Phillips says, and why his policies are what they
are. Phillips finds the family fingerprints on everything from Bush's
pursuit of Saddam Hussein to his leanings toward the energy industry,
which, in the web Phillips weaves, are also related to each other.
''George W. Bush's behavior, far from
being entirely his own product, is rooted in the dynasty's
four-generation evolution and concomitant pattern of deception,
dissimulation and disinformation,'' Phillips writes. Oh, sure, he
adds, there have been other presidents whose relationship to the truth
was erratic. He mentions Johnson, Nixon and Clinton. ''What makes the
Bush pattern different, deeper and more worrisome is that it has been
almost a century in the making.'' A reader is tempted to shake
Phillips and say, aren't we all the products of our forebears?
Certainly Hillary argued quite forcefully that Bill's imperfections
were the result of his own family dynamic. But that would be to skip
the heart of the book. When Kevin Phillips gets rolling, there is no
one who makes more historical connections, conclusory leaps and just
plain old sweeping statements that transcend the bounds of footnotes.
They aren't always convincing, but they sure are exciting.
Phillips argues that dynastic politics
has risen in the land on the force of two familiar societal ailments
-- an infatuation with celebrity and a campaign finance system that
favors the established and wealthy -- and one not so familiar
tendency: a longing for royalty. ''National politics, in short, has
begun to take on the aura of a great family arena. Of the four wives
of the major-party presidential nominees in 1996 and 2000, two quickly
gained U.S. Senate seats: Hillary Clinton in 2000 and Elizabeth Dole
in 2002. A third, Tipper Gore, decided not to make a Senate bid in
Tennessee,'' Phillips says. ''Other seats in the U.S. Senate, in the
meantime, began to pass more like membership in Britain's House of
Lords.'' These include a Chafee in his father's Senate seat in Rhode
Island, a Kennedy in his brother's seat in Massachusetts and a Dodd in
his father's seat in Connecticut. Both senators from New Hampshire are
the sons of former governors, he writes (he doesn't mention that a
Daley sits in his father's chair at City Hall in Chicago).
The ahistorical American reader should
be warned that Phillips really loves comparisons with the history of
Britain and Continental Europe. Everything from the Wars of the Roses
to the return of Simeon II to Bulgaria parades by. But while there may
be reasons to avoid this book, its erudition is not one of them. Most
of the historical analogies can be ignored without prejudice to his
central case. And case is the word. For Phillips, a graduate of
Harvard Law School, sets out to build a case here. ''If there are
other families who have more fully epitomized and risen alongside the
hundred-year emergence of the U.S. military-industrial complex, the
post-1945 national security state and the 21st-century imperium, no
one has identified them,'' he writes. ''Certainly no other established
a presidential dynasty.'' Lest there be any misunderstanding, Phillips
believes this rise is not just an interesting and undertold tale but a
record of deceit, self-dealing, secrecy, crony capitalism and, perhaps
worst of all, Ivy League elitism.
Let it be clear what this book is not.
Phillips's publisher has wrapped it with a cover that seems to offer
one of those fascinating multigenerational sagas of an American
family. The Presidents Bush lean into each other smiling, while
beneath are small photos of the family patriarchs. But Phillips is not
a writer of history. He is an analyst of demographics and documents,
voting patterns and capital accumulation. This skill with data is what
made ''The Emerging Republican Majority'' so powerful. It makes this
book feel off key. Phillips seems more at home with numbers and
connections than with the motivations of men of power.
His tone is reminiscent of the
muckrakers at the turn of the last century. When Phillips says
plutocracy, I hear Lincoln Steffens from ''The Shame of the Cities.''
And the ghost of Ida Tarbell smiles over Phillips's shoulder as he
traces in the New York City Directory of Directors the interlocking
directorates that put George H. Walker, Prescott Bush, the Harrimans
and the Rockefellers in control of companies doing business with the
Nazi Reich and the Soviet Union. It's worth noting that Tarbell
published her trustbusting history of Standard Oil in 1904, three
years after the strike in Texas that set the gushers flowing that
would ultimately fuel the rise of the Bush dynasty.
Phillips is correct that we do not yet
have a full-throated history of the rise of the Bush family and that,
given the election of two presidents in 12 years, this is a worrisome
gap in our understanding. But he acknowledges that he has not done the
research to write that: ''There are a few Bush cousins who might, in
the right mood, be candid -- mostly disgruntled grandchildren of
George H. Walker, the old buccaneer -- but in the end I did not travel
that route.'' So what, then, are the untempered assertions of this
book based on?
''Besides my own background of many
years in Republican politics,'' Phillips explains, he read a lot of
books, newspaper articles, Web sites and magazines. Readers can study
the copious footnotes and form their own judgments about the variable
reliability of these secondary sources. But what about Phillips's own
relationship to the Bushes and how it shapes the book? What were those
experiences of many years in Republican politics? He tells us only
that in the 1960's he began to develop a ''distaste'' for ''what
George H. W. Bush seemed to represent -- a career built on support
from a vague 'elite' rather than merit or democratic selection.''
Beyond that, the reader will search in vain for details of Phillips's
evolving view of the Bushes, and that is a shame. We are robbed both
of whatever firsthand stories Phillips has to tell us and of any way
to judge the credibility of his animus. What we are left with is a
campaign dossier, full of fascinating items worthy of election-year
discussion. A cynical view would be that his publisher knows that
screeds sell (the best-seller list shows that the buying of political
books is as polarized as everything else in politics). A more generous
view is that he is trying to provoke the kind of debate about the
Bushes he believes we should have started years ago.
Michael Oreskes is an assistant
managing editor of The Times.

NEW YORK TIMES: OP-ED
COLUMNIST
Red Ink Realities
By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: January 27, 2004
Even conservatives are starting to
admit that George Bush isn't serious when he claims to be doing
something about the exploding budget deficit. At best — to borrow the
already classic language of the State of the Union address — his
administration is engaged in deficit reduction-related program
activities.
But these admissions have been
accompanied by an urban legend about what went wrong. According to
cleverly misleading reports from the Heritage Foundation and other
like-minded sources, the deficit is growing because Mr. Bush isn't
sufficiently conservative: he's allowing runaway growth in domestic
spending. This myth is intended to divert attention from the real
culprit: sharply reduced tax collections, mainly from corporations and
the wealthy.
Is domestic spending really exploding?
Think about it: farm subsidies aside, which domestic programs have
received lavish budget increases over the last three years? Education?
Don't be silly: No Child Left Behind is rapidly turning into a sick
joke.
In fact, many government agencies are
severely underfinanced. For example, last month the head of the
National Park Service's police admitted to reporters that her force
faced serious budget and staff shortages, and was promptly suspended.
A recent study by the Center on Budget
and Policy Priorities does the math. While overall government spending
has risen rapidly since 2001, the great bulk of that increase can be
attributed either to outlays on defense and homeland security, or to
types of government spending, like unemployment insurance, that
automatically rise when the economy is depressed.
Why, then, do we face the prospect of
huge deficits as far as the eye can see? Part of the answer is the
surge in defense and homeland security spending. The main reason for
deficits, however, is that revenues have plunged. Federal tax receipts
as a share of national income are now at their lowest level since
1950.
Of course, most people don't feel that
their taxes have fallen sharply. And they're right: taxes that fall
mainly on middle-income Americans, like the payroll tax, are still
near historic highs. The decline in revenue has come almost
entirely from taxes that are mostly paid by the richest 5 percent of
families: the personal income tax and the corporate profits tax.
These taxes combined now take a smaller share of national income than
in any year since World War II.
This decline in tax collections from
the wealthy is partly the result of the Bush tax cuts, which account
for more than half of this year's projected deficit. But it also
probably reflects an epidemic of tax avoidance and evasion.
Everyone who wants to understand what's happening to the tax system
should read "Perfectly Legal," the new book by David Cay Johnston, The
Times's tax reporter, who shows how ideologues have made America safe
for wealthy people who don't feel like paying taxes.
I was particularly struck by Mr.
Johnston's description of the carefully staged Senate Finance
Committee hearings in 1997-1998. Senators Trent Lott and Frank
Murkowski accused the I.R.S. of "Gestapo"-like tactics, and Congress
passed new rules that severely restricted the I.R.S.'s ability to
investigate suspected tax evaders. Only later, when the cameras were
no longer rolling, did it become clear that the whole thing was a con.
Most of the charges weren't true, and there was good reason to believe
that the star witness, who dramatically described how I.R.S. agents
had humiliated him, really was engaged in major-league tax evasion (he
eventually paid $23 million, insisting he had done no wrong).
And this was part of a larger con.
What's playing out in America right now is the bait-and-switch
strategy known on the right as "starve the beast." The ultimate goal
is to slash government programs that help the poor and the middle
class, and use the savings to cut taxes for the rich. But the public
would never vote for that.
So the right has used deceptive
salesmanship to undermine tax enforcement and push through
upper-income tax cuts. And now that deficits have emerged, the right
insists that they are the result of runaway spending, which must be
curbed.
While this strategy has been
remarkably successful so far, it also offers a big opportunity to the
opposition. So here's a test for the Democratic contenders: details of
your proposals aside, which of you can do the best job explaining the
ongoing budget con to the American people?

February 8, 2004, Sunday
BOOK REVIEW DESK
Happiness Math
By John Leland
THE PROGRESS PARADOX
How Life Gets Better While People Feel Worse.
By Gregg Easterbrook.
376 pp. New York:
Random House. $24.95.
THE CHEATING CULTURE
Why More Americans Are Doing Wrong
to Get Ahead.
By David Callahan.
353 pp. New York:
Harcourt. $26.
LET the wonkfest begin! Because the money culture of the past decade was so
chimerical, it is now time to consider what hit us, what the effects are and
most important, why, when so many people got so rich, those of us who spend
our lives reading books were so rarely among them. In the last few months Paul
Krugman, a columnist at this newspaper, weighed in with his polemical
collection ''The Great Unraveling: Losing Our Way In the New Century,'' and
Elizabeth Warren and Amelia Warren Tyagi offered ''The Two-Income Trap: Why
Middle-Class Mothers and Fathers Are Going Broke.'' Both books marshaled
compelling statistics and anecdotes into reasons to feel impoverished, or feel
better about already feeling that way. And both belong to a little-discussed
subgenre of well-constructed, civic-minded books you take on airplanes only to
wish in midflight that you'd brought a saucy novel instead.
Gregg Easterbrook, a senior editor at The New Republic, and David Callahan, a
founder of a policy center called Demos, enter the fray with well-constructed,
civic-minded books full of compelling statistics and anecdotes. Easterbrook
writes that the rising prosperity of the last 50 years made almost everything
so much better for almost everybody that it is sheer perversity -- abetted by
Freud, tabloid television and Thomas Pynchon -- to feel bad about most
anything. Callahan argues that the winner-take-all ethos of the recent boom has
bred dishonesty from the classroom to the boardroom, making life worse for
almost everybody.
By the rules of the subgenre, the opening chapters of these books come on like
crisp newsmagazine features, full of dash and numbers, followed by voluminous
examples that basically make the same points, and capped with center-left
prescriptions that could have been arrived at without all the bother.
Specifically, both call for a higher minimum wage, broader health coverage and
tighter corporate oversight.
Easterbrook begins with a convincing case for good cheer. More Americans grow
up with both parents, better health care, less physical toil, more leisure
time, cleaner air and water, bigger homes, higher literacy rates and more cable
channels than ever before. Average families now enjoy the privileges recently
reserved for the rich: access to college, long life expectancies, fancy
vacations, home ownership, central air conditioning and a fleet of cars in the
garage. ''Why do so many walk around scowling, rather than smiling at their
good fortune in being born into the present generation?'' he asks. Even the
poor get too much to eat.
When he turns to the other half of his paradox, that people are not happy, it
is as if to another book. Ignoring an obvious connection -- that this
dissatisfaction is a cause of economic growth, not just a symptom -- he dives
into the delightfully named fields of ''happiness math'' and ''forgiveness
studies.'' According to the data, once people reach a threshold of about
$10,000 a year per person, money has little to do with contentment. People are
happy if they are optimistic, grateful and forgiving. He quotes an expert in
gratitude research: ''if you only think about your disappointments and
unsatisfied wants, you may be prone to unhappiness. If you're fully aware of
your disappointments but at the same time thankful for the good that has
happened and for your chance to live, you may show higher indices of
well-being.'' In other words, if you look on the bright side, you'll see more
light. So much for the hundreds of paragraphs about wealth and health that came
before. Easterbrook's prescriptions -- a $10-an- hour minimum wage, more
foreign aid, lower tariffs on imports -- ignore what he has just said about
happiness. These reforms might improve life for millions, but the rising taxes
and retail prices he accepts in return are unlikely to make average Americans
feel optimistic or grateful.
Callahan, too, begins with a full quiver. From the adults around the Little
League star Danny Almonte who lied about the boy's age, to the looters at
Enron, WorldCom and Tyco, cheating scandals have filled the news. Though
Callahan concedes in a postscript that no one really knows whether such
cheating is on the rise -- no small concession, given his project -- he makes
the case that high payoffs for winners and weak punishments for offenders have
combined to encourage dishonesty among students, doctors, lawyers, taxpayers,
auto mechanics, job applicants, stock analysts, file sharers and corporate
executives. In a society obsessed with the bottom line, he writes, ''The
message isn't just that the world is unfair and the rich can get away with
murder; it's that people who cut corners get ahead.'' Recent scandals involving
mutual fund chiselers and steroid use among baseball players seem timed for the
sequel.
Callahan invokes a lost age of corporate altruism. He quotes Krugman that
before the deregulation of the 1970's, ''America's great corporations behaved
more like socialist republics than like cutthroat capitalist enterprises, and
top executives behaved more like public-spirited bureaucrats than like captains
of industry.'' Even if this portrait were accurate, who would want our economic
engines to follow socialist republics, given the way things worked out?
Callahan's proposed remedies -- an $8.50 minimum wage, affordable health care,
increased financial aid for college, ethics curricula in professional schools,
a tougher S.E.C. -- are bigger than the problems they're meant to fix, however
seriously you take Little League cheating.
Though both of these books are relentlessly big picture, they resist the bigger
picture -- which is how their isolated riffs fit into the greater symphony of
the boom. The anecdotes and statistics shut out competing theses rather than
tackle the mess that the boom so manifestly was. There's no use weighing which
view is right, because both take on only a small bit of turf, and because they
arrive at the same solutions. In either case, an in-flight movie wouldn't hurt.
John Leland is a reporter at The Times and the author of a forthcoming history
of hip.
Published: 02 - 08 - 2004 , Late Edition - Final , Section 7 , Column 1 , Page
13

February 8, 2004, Sunday
BOOK REVIEW DESK
Executives Gone Wild
By Paul Krugman
ORIGINS OF THE CRASH
The Great Bubble and Its Undoing.
By Roger Lowenstein.
270 pp. New York:
Penguin Press. $24.95.
BULL!
A History of the Boom, 1982-1999.
By Maggie Mahar.
486 pp. New York:
HarperBusiness. $27.95.
Eighteen months ago, American capitalism seemed to be in crisis. Stocks had
plunged, and some of the nation's most celebrated business leaders had been
exposed as phonies if not crooks. Now the economy is growing, and the Dow's
been back above 10,000. Alan Greenspan gave himself a big pat on the back at
the American Economic Association meetings, in effect declaring that he was
right all along. So is it safe to buy stocks again? After you read Roger
Lowenstein's ''Origins of the Crash'' and Maggie Mahar's ''Bull!'' you'll have
serious doubts. Both tell the story, from different angles, of how ordinary
investors got suckered into supporting the lifestyles of the rich and
shameless. And you have to wonder whether anything has really changed.
Lowenstein's title may convey the impression that his book is mainly about
stock prices. It isn't: it's about the epidemic of corruption that spread
through corporate America in the 1990's, though that epidemic was in part both
an effect and a cause of the bull market. A better title might have been
''Executives Gone Wild.'' As Lowenstein, also the author of ''Buffett'' and
''When Genius Failed,'' explains, not that long ago the orthodoxy at business
schools -- one that corporate management found highly persuasive -- was that
the trouble with American executives was that they didn't make enough money.
Or, to be more precise, the problem was that they didn't stand to gain enough
if their companies did well. The most famous of the business-school theorists,
Harvard's Michael Jensen, wrote in 1990 that ''corporate America pays its most
important leaders like bureaucrats. Is it any wonder, then, that so many
C.E.O.'s act like bureaucrats?''
The answer suggested by these theorists, and eagerly adopted by much of
corporate America, was to hand executives huge grants of stock options to give
them a stake in corporate success. It didn't. For one thing, once the principle
of giving chief executives gigantic paychecks in return for performance had
been established, acquiescent boards found ways to keep those gigantic
paychecks coming even when executive performance was mediocre or worse.
Lowenstein describes how Michael Eisner, the C.E.O. of Disney, managed to get
paid $800 million over a 13-year period, while delivering a return to investors
less than they would have gotten from Treasury bonds.+Worse yet, rewarding
executives for even brief increases in a company's stock price encouraged, even
mandated, creative accounting that kept reported profits high and growing. In
2001 a chastened Jensen wrote an article titled ''How Stock Options Reward
Managers for Destroying Value.''
And those who cooked the books weren't just richly rewarded; they were
celebrated. In 1998, CFO Magazine gave an Excellence award to Scott Sullivan,
the chief financial executive of WorldCom. In 1999 it gave one to Andrew Fastow
of Enron. And in 2000, it gave one to Mark Swartz of Tyco. All three have since
been indicted.
Those who tried to blow the whistle were silenced. Lowenstein tells the sad
story of James Bingham, an assistant treasurer at Xerox who was ordered to
''destroy'' an e-mail message warning of accounting misstatements. When that
instruction became public, the company characterized it as an ''unfortunate
selection of words.'' Then the company fired him. Two years later, all his
misgivings were confirmed.
What happened to the regulators? Bipartisan pressure prevented public watchdogs
from doing their job. When the Financial Accounting Standards Board tried to
get companies to account for the cost of issuing stock options, Kathleen Brown,
the Democratic California treasurer, led a public rally at which she shouted
''Give stocks a chance!'
Alan Greenspan -- who Mahar says won his job as Federal Reserve chairman
''first and foremost because he was a Republican'' -- emerges as a particular
villain, not just because he so quickly switched from condemning irrational
exuberance to cheering it on. Faced with growing concerns about accounting for
derivatives, he ''repeatedly sided with private bankers to inhibit controls and
even to suppress disclosure.'' After the collapse of the hedge fund Long-Term
Capital Management, which nearly caused a global financial crisis, Greenspan
called for less regulation.+
If you have been following the story of corporate scandal, ''Origins of the
Crash'' won't add that much to your understanding. But if you don't know quite
what happened at Enron and WorldCom, and why they weren't just isolated bad
apples, Lowenstein's book is an excellent introduction. Yet I do have two
complaints. One is that the book is a bit drier than one might have expected.
It is, after all, a lurid story; that luridness doesn't really come through.
The other is that Lowenstein doesn't spend much time explaining why the public
was so easily fooled. For that, turn to ''Bull!'' -- which also has a lot of
the writing pizazz somewhat lacking in ''Origins of the Crash.''
Mahar's focus is not on corporate corruption, but on the enablers who cheered
on false business heroes and made the corruption possible. Though she tries to
frame the book as an investment guide, it reads more naturally as an indictment
of stock analysts and the financial media.+What I learned -- something I didn't
fully appreciate before -- was the extent to which the stock market bubble of
the 1990's was supported by intimidation as well as
exuberance.+Mahar,+formerly+a+writer+for+Barron's+and+Bloomberg, opens with a
scene from the life of Henry Blodget -- who became famous for valuing Amazon at
$400 and has since become a symbol of dot-com delusions -- at the height of his
fame. This not a tale of arrogance, it's a tale of fear: Blodget, who'd been
slightly negative about a stock, receives an abusive phone call from a fund
manager who owned the stock and resolves never to be negative again. A bit
later we get the plight of Prudential's Ralph Acampora, who had to be given a
bodyguard after he warned of a bear market.
Not all the intimidation was that explicit. To some extent, analysts and money
managers simply felt that they had to run with the herd. Mahar quotes Laurence
Siegel of the Ford Foundation: ''You can be wrong and with the crowd, which
isn't actually so bad. . . . Or you can be wrong and alone and then you really
look like an idiot.''
What's striking in Mahar's account is the extent to which the forces that cowed
analysts and money managers into going along with the trend also biased press
coverage. Partly this was because the public didn't want to hear bad news.
David Faber, CNBC's investigative reporter, gives a remarkably blunt
explanation of why he didn't do much, you know, investigating: ''When you break
a big story, for example, about fraud at a Waste Management or a Cendant . . .
the response wasn't necessarily as encouraging as you might have expected.''
But it wasn't just audience lack of interest that led to the de facto coverup.
Newsweek's Allan Sloan sized up AOL correctly, realizing that it wasn't
profitable and had little hope of becoming so, but says ''his bosses objected
to his constant carping about AOL's numbers: ''Whenever I published one of
these stories, everyone would carry on.'' Louis Rukeyser fired Warburg's Gail
Dudack from ''Wall Street Week'' in late 1999 -- just a few months before the
market turned sharply down -- because of her bearishness. And let's give
special mention to The Wall Street Journal, which not only promoted ''Dow
36,000'' (which Mahar describes as ''mildly lunatic''), but in 1998 told its
readers to ''rest easy'': ''U.S. corporate accounting has been getting steadily
more conservative in recent years, not less so.''
In other words, we shouldn't blame the public too much for getting caught up in
irrational exuberance. Foolish ideas were made to seem sensible by the
unanimous optimism of analysts and the financial media. That unanimity was the
product of a climate of fear in which everyone knew that asking hard questions
put your career at risk. It wasn't just a market bubble: the system failed.
Which brings us back to the question I asked earlier: is it safe to buy stocks
again? Very few of the corporate villains have faced charges, fewer still have
been convicted: some are still running what's left of their companies, others
ruined their stockholders and employees but did very well for themselves, thank
you. It's hard to escape the feeling that the forces that suckered so many
Americans during the boom years are ready to do it again.
Paul Krugman is an Op-Ed columnist for The Times.
Published: 02 - 08 - 2004 , Late Edition - Final , Section 7 , Column 1 , Page 9

NEW YORK TIMES
FLOYD NORRIS
Do Falling Interest Rates
Cause Investors to Take Dangerous Risks?
Published: March 12, 2004
FORE than two decades ago, Latin
American countries defaulted on their debts - and the world banking
system quaked. Now, Argentina has to be forced even to negotiate with
its lenders on debts that went into default in 2001. But no one is
worried about the banks.
Call it the democratization of risk.
These days, when the going gets tough for lenders, the risk seems most
often to be borne by investors, not financial institutions. In the
case of Argentina, a not insignificant part of that risk ended up with
individual investors in Italy - 250,000 of them, according to Mauro
Sandri, a lawyer representing them - who kept buying until the default
occurred.
Since then, Argentina has not shown an
excess of eagerness to reach a deal with its creditors. This week the
International Monetary Fund forced Argentina to promise to negotiate,
although it remains to be seen how much, if any, the country is
willing to improve its offer. That offer would give creditors about 8
cents on the dollar if you consider accrued but unpaid interest in
your calculations.
The new order of things is clearly
good for the financial system, if not for the unfortunate owners of
Argentine bonds. Even banks that survived the 1980's crisis were less
able - not to mention less willing - to lend in the early 1990's as
the economy came out of recession ever so slowly. That may have played
a role in the failure of the first President Bush to win a second
term. Now the share prices of banks are rising, and credit is readily
available.
But the democratization of debt
creates other problems. It is harder to negotiate a deal when a debtor
does get into trouble, and it is increasingly difficult to know just
where the risk resides. In the 1980's it was possible to get 20 banks
in a room and be confident that all the important players were there,
and were able to cut a deal if they wished to do so.
Now with capital markets rather than
banks making the loans, it is hard to know who has the risk, and
virtually impossible to get them all together. If you knew who owned
the bonds, which is not easy to find out even for the issuer, the
existence of credit derivatives means you cannot be sure who really
stands to suffer from a default. There is no way to be sure, until it
is too late, whether derivatives are allowing risks to be spread
around or whether they are concentrating risks in a dangerous way.
It is easy to sneer at the Italian
investors who bought the Argentine bonds. But their experience may
prove to be far from unique. There is nothing like falling interest
rates to make otherwise rational people willing to take irrational
risks. The Italians began to buy when the convergence of European
interest rates, as part of the run-up to the establishment of the
euro, led to big declines in Italian rates.
Now it is American rates that have
fallen to shockingly low levels. "The last 12 months saw wild moves
out the risk curve,'' said Robert J. Barbera, the chief economist at
Hoenig, noting that the average junk bond now yields less than 7
percent and that emerging market debt - Argentina excluded - also
found plentiful buyers. "All these risky endeavors got capital
cheaply.''
And they are getting plenty of it. In
2004, reports John Lonski, the chief economist of Moody's, companies
rated Caa - the nether region of junk - have raised $6.8 billion. That
is triple what they raised in 2002. It reminds him of the complacent
days of early 1998, before crises in Russia and then Asia petrified
bond investors.
In Argentina, paying foreign creditors
is politically unpopular, even though the economy is doing well. But
if Argentina cuts a deal soon, it could refinance its debt, and
perhaps borrow more, at really cheap rates.
Borrowers have reason to rejoice. But
those putting up the money may regret it . "There is a great deal of
confidence,'' Mr. Lonski said. "It may be misplaced.''

NYTimes
Corporate Tax Holidays

Here's unwelcome news for individuals scrambling this week to file
their taxes: Almost two-thirds of America's corporations paid no
federal income taxes during the late 1990's, when corporate profits
were soaring. Nine out of 10 companies paid less than the equivalent
of 5 percent of their total income. After allowable deductions,
companies ostensibly face a 35 percent rate. Meanwhile, as David Cay
Johnston reported in yesterday's Times, the government is doing less
to enforce the law. Over the last decade, the audit rate for the
largest corporations has fallen by almost half.
Corporate tax avoiders are a major problem that needs immediate
action. They are both a straightforward fiscal problem — with federal
coffers being denied needed money at a time of spiralling deficits —
and a broader threat to our civic culture. It's never healthy to have
tax rates become merely academic. Just look at the recent history of
Latin America's crippled economies.
Corporate taxes now account for about 7.5 percent of overall
federal tax receipts, down from a high of 40 percent during World War
II.
What corporate America's proper share ought to be is not obvious,
but it's a political issue that calls for an open debate. Instead,
what's happening is highly corrosive to any democracy. Corporate tax
rates have been scaled back by subterfuge and an ever-expanding web of
shelters and loopholes. In 2000, American companies paid an average of
only $14.75 in taxes for every $1,000 in gross revenue, according to a
recent study by the General Accounting Office.
Sophisticated tax dodging — much of it falling in that gray region
separating the flagrantly illegal from the merely inappropriate —
helps render actual rates meaningless. Despite one of the highest
ostensible corporate tax rates in the industrialized world, American
companies are in fact among the least taxed. This oddity undermines
the integrity of the system and makes a mockery of those who actually
try to pay their fair share.
It would be far healthier to reduce corporate tax rates modestly
while simplifying the system to ensure compliance, as
John Kerry is
proposing. His plan, which seeks to make it more difficult for
companies to defer paying taxes on their overseas profits, remains a
bit muddled by his desire to package it as an anti-outsourcing
measure. But at least the senator is raising the subject.
Despite much talk in Washington about the need for meaningful
corporate tax reform, it's not an issue that the Bush administration
has ever been prepared to address in a serious manner. This cannot go
on indefinitely. The credibility of the tax code is in dire need of
some shoring up.
NYTimes.com, OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
The Department of Internal Resentment
By RICHARD YANCEY
Published: April 14, 2004
KNOXVILLE, Tenn. — For nearly 13 years, until October 2003, I was a
tax collector for the Internal Revenue Service. I was a field officer,
spending the majority of my time making unannounced visits to
businesses and individuals who owed federal taxes. I never expected a
warm reception and rarely did I receive one.
And whose doors did I knock on? The carpet installer, the day-care
center operator, the Wal-Mart clerk, the carpenter, the print shop
owner. The majority of the taxes I collected were from the
small-business owner with fewer than 20 employees. I long ago lost
count of how many weed-choked fields I have trudged across to inspect
some broken-down piece of farm equipment; how many musty warehouses,
dilapidated mobile homes, cluttered shops and offices reeking of sweat
and that peculiar odor of human desperation I have sat in; the number
of ill-educated tradesmen, struggling entrepreneurs and desperate
homemakers I have interrogated, demanding the impossible and promising
the full fury of my federal power when my demands could not be met.
It is no secret that the nation's tax code favors the wealthy and
protects big business. (An astounding 63 percent of United States
corporations paid no federal income tax at all in 2000.) The
individuals and businesses I encountered during my career did not have
an army of tax lawyers, certified public accountants and lobbyists to
guide and protect them. Most netted less than $30,000 per year. Most
operated out of rundown store fronts in tired strip malls. Most were
honest people who knew my arrival was the death knell of their
American dream.
It should come as no surprise: the I.R.S. goes where the money's
owed, and the money is owed by the little guy. When the service was
reorganized in the late 1990's, it moved collection personnel to the
small business/self-employed division; the other compliance division,
which handles medium and large businesses, has no collection employees
at all. Squeezed between a complex tax code that favors big business
and an agency that marshals the entirety of its resources against him,
the little guy doesn't stand a chance. He doesn't have the money to
pay or to find a way out of paying.
Congress has not been completely deaf to the cries of the
multitudes that the I.R.S., inebriated from years of imbibing absolute
power, had a drinking problem. The reforms were intended, in part, to
transform the ultimate bureaucratic bully into a convivial playmate.
Inside the service, however, the bully culture endures. The truth is
that most I.R.S. employees fear their employer more than the average
taxpayer does. Most middle- and upper-level managers rose to power
long before 1998, men and women (but mostly men) who learned as
front-line employees the spoils of civil service (promotions and
awards) come in direct proportion to the amount of power they exerted
over taxpayers, invariably in the form of confiscation. As my
on-the-job trainer informed me early in my career, if I wanted to
advance my career in the I.R.S., I had to seize assets. And it didn't
matter what I seized — the I.R.S. could always make equity.
Thus those who wield true power within the I.R.S. — the elite who
determine policy, organization and procedure — perpetuate the culture
of fear and intimidation, for it is the only way of life they have
ever known. Fear and intimidation got them where they are — why should
they change? Congress can rewrite the laws, but it can't change human
nature or the nature of power. The result is some of the worst
collection statistics in the agency's history and a decimated,
demoralized rank-and-file squeezed between the demands of the bullies
above and the rights of its "clients" below.
Commissioner Mark W. Everson has promised the I.R.S. will get back
into the enforcement business. This is both heartening and
frightening. Confidence in our tax system relies on the public's
belief that the tax laws are administered fairly — that nobody escapes
the wrath of the taxman. But as long as Congress passes laws that
favor big business and the richest among us, as long as money buys
protection and influence, there will never be true reform.
Only the little people pay taxes, Leona Helmsley once said. It's
true: our government makes sure of it.
Richard Yancey is the author of "Confessions of a Tax
Collector: One Man's Tour of Duty Inside the I.R.S."

NEW YORK TIMES: May 2, 2004, Sunday SUNDAYBUSINESS
Hat Trick: A 3rd Unit Of Marsh Under Fire
By GRETCHEN MORGENSON (NYT) 2352 words
FOR years, Marsh & McLennan Companies, the financial services
colossus, had maintained a low profile, quietly racking up outsized
profits as the ultimate Wall Street middleman. By acting as an
intermediary to corporate and individual clients, it avoided problems
that often plagued its more glamorous rivals, who made riskier bets on
markets, companies or properties.
Not anymore. As regulators continue to plumb the conflicts of
interest that permeate much of the financial world, Marsh & McLennan's
days of relative anonymity -- not to mention hefty, low-risk profits
-- may be over.
Marsh, as it is known, wears three hats: it performs insurance
brokerage services for corporate clients, dispenses investment advice
through Putnam Investments and offers consulting services through
Mercer Inc. Two of its businesses were already under a microscope.
Last month, the company paid $110 million to settle regulatory
accusations by Massachusetts and the Securities and Exchange
Commission that lax oversight at Putnam allowed some fund managers to
benefit personally from inside information. And in December, the S.E.C.
began an inquiry into possible conflicts among pension consultants,
including Mercer Inc.
Now, Marsh's biggest business has attracted official attention.
Just over a week ago, it acknowledged that Eliot Spitzer, the New York
attorney general, is investigating practices at its huge, immensely
profitable insurance brokerage division. The latest salvo from Mr.
Spitzer, whose investigation into Putnam is continuing, means Marsh
has pulled off a rare trifecta -- all three of its businesses are
being scrutinized by regulators.
A spokeswoman for Marsh said that company officials would not
comment for this article.
Marsh is not the only insurance broker Mr. Spitzer is investigating
. Three other industry players -- the Aon Corporation, Willis Group
Holdings and Kaye Insurance Associates -- have acknowledged receiving
subpoenas from his office. And Mr. Spitzer has written to insurers to
ask for details about their arrangements with brokers. ''We are at the
early stages of an investigation and are very interested in what we
are finding,'' Mr. Spitzer said last week.
He declined to comment further on the investigation, which centers
on contingency fees that insurance companies pay to insurance brokers
who steer them business. Brokers have a fiduciary duty to find the
best coverage at the best price for their clients. At issue is whether
the fees encourage insurance brokers to put their own interests ahead
of the interests of their clients.
THE fee payments, known as placement service agreements, range from
5 percent to 7.5 percent of the insurance that is underwritten. They
are typically paid above the regular commissions of 15 percent that
insurance brokers charge when they match an insurer with a corporation
that needs coverage.
Because contingency fees do not require a broker to perform any
additional service or make additional expenditures, they are extremely
profitable. By one analyst's estimate, contingent commissions account
for roughly 5 percent of the brokerage industry's revenue but can
total more than 30 percent of a broker's net income.
The New York Insurance Department is also investigating the
contingency fees, as is John Garamendi, the California insurance
commissioner. ''As a result of business channeled to the company that
is paying the broker, the interest of the insurance broker is foremost
rather than the interest of the consumer,'' Mr. Garamendi said.
''Hence these arrangements are suspect and now subject to
investigation by my department.''
The companies under investigation have all said that the fee
agreements have been around for decades and that their existence is
disclosed to their clients. They have declined to comment on the
investigations.
Last week, Jeffrey W. Greenberg, the chairman and chief executive
officer of Marsh, sent a memorandum to his staff defending the
agreements, calling them a ''long-standing, common industry
practice.''
A spokesman for Aon provided a statement saying that the agreements
are an age-old and common practice. ''Aon discloses such arrangements
in fee agreements with clients, invoices to clients, and its Web
site,'' the company said.
But even as the major insurance brokers play down the inquiries by
Mr. Spitzer and others, insurance analysts say that the agreements are
overdue for investigation. And because the contingency fees have
contributed to significant increases in profitability for insurance
brokers in recent years, any reduction in the arrangements likely will
have a big impact on their financial results.
Alice D. Schroeder, an advisory director at Morgan Stanley and
former insurance analyst for the firm, said she had heard complaints
about contingency fees for years from companies who use brokers to buy
insurance for them. ''It is not surprising that this is finally coming
to a head,'' she said. ''At a time when margins everywhere are under
pressure and companies are trying to give the best deal to their
customers, this is one industry where that hasn't happened. But now it
looks like it will.''
Nobody has more to lose in such a situation than Marsh & McLennan,
the world's largest insurance broker, which provides risk and
insurance services to clients in 100 countries. Almost $7 billion, or
roughly 60 percent of the company's $11.5 billion in revenues last
year, came from brokering insurance to corporate clients. Mercer's
consulting services contributed 23 percent of sales while Putnam's
investment management generated 17 percent.
DURING the first quarter, Marsh's risk and insurance services
revenues hit $2 billion, a 12 percent jump from a year ago. Operating
income did even better, rising 14 percent to $637 million. By
comparison, Mercer's operating income increased just 7 percent in the
period to $89 million and Putnam reported a $26 million operating
loss.
Happily for Marsh & McLennan, its insurance business has offset a
continuing investor exodus from Putnam. In March, investors withdrew
$2.3 billion from Putnam funds, the largest outflows of any fund
company. March was the 34th consecutive month of net outflows for
Putnam.
Mercer's consulting business, while profitable, has increased risks
as well. Regulators are investigating the potential conflicts in
pension consulting -- including how the consultants choose money
managers to recommend to pension fund clients. Mercer is also one of
the compensation consultants in the middle of the fracas over pay
received by Richard A. Grasso, former chairman of the New York Stock
Exchange.
Edward A.H. Siedle, president of the Benchmark Companies in Ocean
Ridge, Fla., is a securities lawyer and former S.E.C. official in fund
regulation who investigates fraudulent activity among pension fund
managers. He said that the potential liability for pension consultants
is huge compared with the revenues their services generate because the
funds can sue them for the entire amount of an investment they have
made if the consultants are found to have acted improperly.
''The work I'm doing around the country suing pension consultants
on behalf of funds is making all pension consultants very nervous
about the potential liability relating to consulting,'' Mr. Siedle
said. ''As a result, many of them are rethinking the risk-reward
calculation.''
But the biggest cloud hanging over Marsh is the potential damage to
profits that could result from a prolonged investigation into
insurance broker contingency fees. After all, Marsh's brokerage unit
is among the largest recipients of these fees in the country, if not
the largest. Under the contingency fee arrangements, insurance brokers
can earn extra fees either on the front end, based on the volume of
business done with an insurer, or the back end, based on the profits
the insurer generated on the coverage it provided. Both arrangements
have the potential for serious conflicts.
Upfront fees paid by an insurer based on the dollar amount of
business brought to it by a broker could encourage the broker to
recommend an insurer to a client because of the fees, not because the
insurer offers the best coverage. Alternatively, fees based on how
profitable an insurance contract turned out to be for an insurer could
call into question a broker's objectivity in helping a corporate
customer settle a claim.
Insurance brokers can play big roles in helping settle a client's
claim by interpreting policy language, for example, or acting as
expert witnesses for the insured in court cases.
If a client settling a claim with an insurer subsequently learns
that his broker earned $100,000 in contingency fees from that insurer,
the broker's role as an unbiased provider of services can be
questioned. This is why the vague disclosure that typically surrounds
contingency fees -- only that such fees may be earned, not necessarily
how much they amount to -- is so troubling.
And what if a broker steered a client to an insurer that later
filed for bankruptcy, as Reliance Group Holdings did in 2001, and the
company that bought the insurance learned that Reliance had paid the
broker contingency fees on the referral?
Dowling & Partners, a research firm in Farmington, Conn.,
specializing in insurance companies, has estimated how much of Marsh's
profitability comes from contingency fees. The firm said that last
year, Marsh's contingency fee revenues could have totaled $700
million; after taxes, the fees could have generated $450 million, or
30 percent of the insurance unit's earnings.
There is no doubt that Marsh's profits in risk and insurance
services have rocketed in recent years as the contingency fees have
become more popular. In 1998, profits in the segment totaled 18.3
percent of sales; by last year, they had risen to 25.5 percent. Some
of that had to do with cost cutting and accounting treatment of
acquisitions, but contingent fees certainly contributed, analysts
said.
Another source of potential conflicts in the insurance brokerage
industry is a practice known as tying or leveraging, which occurs when
an insurance company wants to buy reinsurance to offset some of its
risk. Some insurance brokers have threatened to stop sending primary
insurance business to the insurance company unless it agrees to let
them broker all its reinsurance needs in return. Profits for brokers
on reinsurance revenues are far higher than they are on primary
insurance.
In March 2003, Linda F. Golodner, president of the National
Consumers League, a nonprofit consumer organization in Washington,
wrote to officials in four states, urging them to investigate tying
practices. ''We are concerned not only that this practice is
unethical, but that it impacts the price that property and casualty
insurance companies charge consumers and businesses,'' Ms. Golodner
wrote. ''Reinsurance is the second highest expense after personnel
costs for these companies.''
Ms. Golodner said that she wrote the letter after several employees
of insurance companies contacted her office describing and criticizing
the practice of tying. She received responses from officials in three
states, California, Connecticut and Florida, who said they would look
into the matter, but she has heard nothing since. Tying arrangements
are not disclosed to insurance brokers' customers. New York was the
other state to receive a letter from Ms. Golodner. Insurance industry
experts say that shedding light on the cozy and secretive world of
insurance brokerage will benefit the companies that use the brokers'
services. Certainly brokers play a valuable role providing a
distribution service for insurers and some industry analysts said
insurers would still be willing to pay for it.
But with two major companies dominating the business -- Aon and
Marsh -- the industry is essentially a duopoly. And insurance brokers
have kept such a tight control over pricing and product information
that many officials at companies who buy insurance -- known as risk
managers -- say the brokers' control over distribution gives them
absolute power in the insurance buying process.
Insurance brokers have several ways of controlling their customers,
industry experts added. For example, brokers maintain all claims data
for their customers, and have a contractual obligation to manage and
process all claims on a case even if the broker no longer has a
relationship with the insured. Some insurance analysts say that this
is one reason brokers' customers rarely jump ship: they fear that the
fired broker would not give its former customer good servicing on its
continuing claims.
''You have two companies that in effect have the right to charge a
toll to everybody and nobody can do anything without their consent,''
said an analyst who insisted on anonymity, fearing reprisals from the
brokerages. ''They have pushed margins farther than they can go in a
healthy business model and they will come down.''
Another analyst who declined to be identified said that an
additional reason the insurance brokers want their fee agreements kept
under wraps is that if the terms are made public, investors will know
how lucrative they are and realize that traditional insurance
brokerage profits are not as high as many had assumed.
MARSH'S stock has held up remarkably well since the investigation
by Mr. Spitzer was disclosed. Then, the company's shares stood at
$45.99. On Friday, they closed at $45.10. The stock is down 5.83
percent this year.
''Potential outcomes of the current investigation range from fines
and an increased disclosure requirement on the part of the brokers to
an actual change in the business practice of arranging and documenting
contingent fee agreements,'' said David Mocklow, managing director at
Cochran, Caronia Securities L.L.C., a research firm specializing in
the insurance arena. ''It remains to be seen whether Spitzer would
deem the current practice as one that causes a conflict for the broker
and therefore would seek to prevent brokers from accepting any
payments from the insurance carriers.''
It seems fairly clear, even early in Mr. Spitzer's investigation,
that the rules of engagement in the lucrative insurance brokerage
business will change. The brokers may not want to admit it, but
investors should.
Correction: May 9, 2004, Sunday A picture caption last Sunday with
an article about the Marsh & McLennan Companies reversed the
identities of two executives and gave an outdated title for one of
them. Jeffrey W. Greenberg, the chief executive, was at the right;
Charles E. Haldeman, now president and chief executive of the
company's Putnam Investments unit, at the left; Mr. Haldeman was
promoted last November from senior managing director.

NEW YORK TIMES
Big Gap Found in Taxation of Wages and
Investments
By EDMUND L. ANDREWS
Published: May 8, 2004
ASHINGTON, May 7 - Americans are being taxed more than twice as
heavily on earnings from work as they are on investment income, even
though more than half of all investment income goes to the wealthiest
5 percent of taxpayers, a new study has estimated.
The study, which applied the most current tax laws to a database of
186,000 tax returns, found that federal income taxes on wages and
other earnings average about 10.7 percent and that payroll taxes for
Medicare and Social Security take another 12.7 percent. By contrast,
federal taxes on investment income average about 9.6 percent.
The study was produced by Citizens for Tax Justice, a liberal
nonprofit research organization that has criticized tax breaks for
corporations and the wealthy. Extrapolating from data supplied by the
Internal Revenue Service, the study estimated that 43 percent of all
investment income goes to the wealthiest 1 percent of households and
60 percent goes to the top 5 percent.
"The huge disparity in taxation between earnings and investment
income should shock average American taxpayers," said Robert S.
McIntyre, director of Citizens for Tax Justice. Tax experts said the
calculations conformed with their own sense of the current tax code.
The centerpiece of President Bush's last big tax package was a
provision that halved taxes on stock dividends and reduced the top tax
rate on capital gains to 15 percent, from 20 percent.
Mr. Bush is proposing to exclude a huge share of investment profits
from all taxation, by letting people contribute thousands of dollars a
year in new retirement accounts and "lifetime savings accounts," with
tax-free earnings.
"Conservatives and people like me would argue that the proper tax
rate on investment income ought to be zero," said Chris Edwards, a tax
analyst at the Cato Institute, a research group in Washington that
advocates deep tax cuts. "The whole paradigm on the right is to move
away from taxing investment income and just tax income when it is
consumed."
Alan Auerbach, a professor of economics and law at the University
of California, Berkeley and an informal adviser to Senator John Kerry,
said Congress had steadily made the tax code more favorable to
investors over many years.
"Certainly, recent policy changes have been tilted in favor of
investors," Mr. Auerbach said. "But there has often been a struggle
between giving people incentives to save and trying to have fairness."
The tax rate on investment profits is already an issue in the
presidential election campaign. Mr. Kerry has vowed to eliminate last
year's tax cut on stock dividends for the wealthiest taxpayers.
President Bush has placed a priority on making the dividend tax cut
permanent.
Some of Mr. Bush's economic advisers would like to go much further,
essentially scrapping taxes on investment income and replacing it with
a broad consumption tax.
The sweeping tax overhaul of 1986, which drastically lowered top
tax rates for the wealthy but also wiped out scores of tax breaks,
changed the tax rates for stock market profits and most other
investment income so that they were taxed at the same rate as earnings
from wages and salaries.
But within a few years, Congress began passing measures that
gradually reintroduced the tax preference for investment income. In
1991, President George H. W. Bush and Congress agreed to raise the top
tax rate on personal income to 31 percent from 28 percent, but the top
rate on long-term capital gains remained at 28 percent. President Bill
Clinton later pushed through another increase in the top bracket for
income taxes, to 39.6 percent, but Congress left the top rate on
capital gains at 28 percent.
In 1997, Congress widened the margin again by reducing the top rate
on capital gains to 20 percent. Tax accountants began figuring out
ways for wealthy clients to shelter their income. Existing laws
continued to let people shelter investment income in tax-advantaged
retirement accounts, college savings plans and tax-free municipal
bonds.
Mr. McIntyre said President Bush's tax cuts widened the preference
for investors, reducing taxes on investment income by 22 percent while
reducing taxes on ordinary earnings by 9 percent. By his calculations,
the average tax rate on ordinary earnings was 2.1 times that on
investment income when Mr. Bush became president and became 2.5 times
after last year's tax cuts.
If investment income were taxed exactly as earnings from work, Mr.
McIntyre concluded, government tax revenues would increase by about
$338 billion this year. Ninety-five percent of taxpayers would keep
about two-thirds of their recent tax cuts, he estimated, while the
average tax rate on the wealthiest 1 percent of taxpayers would rise
to 33 percent, from 22 percent.

NEW YORK TIMES Editorial
Tax Relief Charade
Published: May 13, 2004
Last week, House Republicans were the driving force behind the
passage of a stopgap measure intended to provide relief for taxpayers
who have been hit of late with the alternative minimum tax. The relief
is sorely needed. But the House's measure is disingenuous — a
temporary fix that will mollify justifiably aggrieved taxpayers in the
short run while obscuring the real cause of the alternative tax
problem and, by extension, dangerous flaws in the Bush
administration's tax policy.
The alternative minimum tax is built into the federal tax code to
ensure that superwealthy taxpayers don't use excessive tax breaks to
avoid paying their fair share. In the 1990's, it never applied to more
than about one million people a year. But in recent years, the tax has
begun afflicting middle-class and upper-middle-class taxpayers who are
far from the multimillionaires it was intended to affect. This year,
about three million taxpayers will owe this tax. Without corrective
action, nearly 30 million taxpayers will be affected in 2010, most of
them making $50,000 to $200,000.
Part of the problem is that the alternative minimum tax was not
designed to reflect the effects of inflation, so the House's fix would
provide some inflation protection by increasing the thresholds for the
tax through 2005. But a more serious cause is the Bush tax cuts of
2001 and 2003. When the tax cuts were enacted, no corresponding
changes were made to the alternative tax. So as the tax cuts reduce
the liability on a filer's Form 1040, the alternative tax liability
looms relatively larger. In effect, most taxpayers snared by this tax
will be giving back all or part of the tax savings they were supposed
to reap from the Bush tax cuts.
This consequence was not unforeseen — the alternative tax has been
studied from every conceivable angle for over a decade. It is allowed
to endure in its current form for only one reason: to mask the tax
cuts' disastrous effect on the deficit. As long as the alternative tax
is on the books, official budget estimates include the revenue it is
projected to raise from middle-class taxpayers — even though the
administration and Congress are publicly committed to ensuring that
those same taxpayers won't have to pay. One way or the other, then,
the administration's tax plan is sheer duplicity. Either middle-class
Americans will find their supposed tax cuts gobbled up by the
alternative tax, or the deficit will be far larger than the
administration projects.
The hidden budget hole is enormous. Right now, the administration
argues that Congress must permanently extend the Bush tax cuts.
According to estimates by the Tax Policy Center of the Urban Institute
and the Brookings Institution, the cost of doing so, without reforming
the alternative tax, is about $1.2 trillion. If the alternative tax is
reformed so it won't apply to middle-class taxpayers, the cost will
explode to nearly $2 trillion.
The Senate is expected to pass the House's temporary fix, but
middle-class taxpayers should not be fooled. They will either get
little if any benefit from the Bush tax cuts, or they will get a
deficit that has ballooned beyond anyone's worst nightmare.

BOOKS OF THE TIMES | 'RUNNING ON EMPTY'
While the Politicians Fiddle, America Goes Broke
By CHRISTOPHER CALDWELL
Published: August 12, 2004
When
George W. Bush
was governor of Texas, Peter G. Peterson tried to convince him that
the rickety finances of Social Security and Medicare posed a pressing
philosophical and moral question. Mr. Peterson has been chairman of
several corporations and of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York and
was secretary of commerce under President Richard M. Nixon. As
president of the Concord Coalition he has warned that politicians are
endangering the economy by recklessly promising government benefits
that they have no will - and no way - to finance. The question he
raised with Governor Bush was ''whether a modern, media-driven
democracy that only focuses on immediate crises could respond
effectively to a very different kind of threat - a silent,
slow-motion, long-term crisis like entitlements."
Three years into the Bush administration, Mr. Peterson has his
answer. It is no. Benefit spending now takes up an eighth of gross
domestic product and is rising steeply. The deficit has spiked
alarmingly since 2000, and under the most favorable demographic
circumstances imaginable: for the past two decades the huge baby-boom
generation has been in its prime work years, paying benefits for a
relatively small number of nonworking seniors and children. Things are
about to change dramatically for the worse. Soon, senescent boomers
will be collecting the checks, and there will be only
two-and-a-quarter workers per beneficiary.
With precision and punch, Mr. Peterson's "Running on Empty" lays
out why we are in a lousy position to dig ourselves out of this hole.
The United States now has the lowest savings rate in the developed
world. Much of the growth in entitlements has been paid for by defense
cuts that were reaching their limits even before Sept. 11. The annual
current-account deficit - what America has to borrow to finance its
excess of imports over exports - is a dangerously high $540 billion,
or 5.1 percent of gross domestic product. Net financial liabilities to
foreigners have risen to $2.6 trillion today, from zero in 1980. With
a third of public debt held abroad, the consoling thought that ''we
owe it to ourselves" is no longer operative.
How we reached this pass can be stated simply: Republicans undertax,
while Democrats overspend. For decades, Mr. Peterson writes, Democrats
''labored patiently to purge America of its traditional aversion to
deficits," bribing voters with jobs and social-service programs that
the country could not afford. Starting with the Emergency Recovery Tax
Act of 1981, though, Republicans have learned that tax cuts and
write-offs can be used as bribes in exactly the same way. Dependent on
deficit spending, both parties have blown through every institutional
constraint erected against reckless tax cuts and benefit expansions,
from the Gramm-Rudman deficit ceilings of the 1980's to the Budget
Enforcement Act of 1990. And they have blown the Social Security-tax
surpluses meant to offset predictable future shortfalls.
While Mr. Peterson blames both parties for conniving against fiscal
common sense, he puts the present administration in a class of its
own. George W. Bush has discarded traditional Republican qualms
against big government, replacing the old Democratic model of
tax-and-spend with his own model of borrow-and-spend. Thanks to three
unaffordable tax cuts and an unfinanced Medicare drug benefit that
will eventually cost $2 trillion a decade, Mr. Peterson writes, ''this
administration and the Republican Congress have presided over the
biggest, most reckless deterioration of America's finances in
history."
Unfortunately, fixing the federal budget will require more than
just cleaning up after the Bush administration, Mr. Peterson warns.
Revenue lost from the Bush tax cuts will indeed have to be recaptured,
but the fiscal threat from entitlement programs functioning normally
is 10 times as large. Mr. Peterson recommends a program to reform
them. Switching from wage-indexing to price-indexing, as Britain has
done, and establishing mandatory savings programs could put Social
Security on a sound footing by midcentury, he writes.
Medicare and Medicaid, which will cost more than Social Security by
the end of this decade, are trickier. Mr. Peterson would start by
introducing ''managed competition," capping the deductibility of
employer health plans and reining in malpractice lawyers. He would
reform the budget process by reinstating the Budget Enforcement Act of
1990, which required cuts to balance new spending.
Mr. Peterson has laid out his level-headed argument at book length
several times now. Why has it continued to be ignored? Maybe Americans
have tacitly given up on the idea that large, New Deal-style
entitlement programs can work over the long term - whether because
such programs inevitably get corrupted by politics and bureaucracy, or
because even a well-managed welfare state is a competitive albatross
in an age of globalization. Mr. Peterson himself notes that
nine-tenths of baby boomers think ''government has made financial
promises to [their] generation that it will not be able to keep." The
guarantee of a secure retirement is already being rescinded in the
minds of the citizenry, if not yet in the statute books.
But Mr. Peterson also entertains a darker possibility: that ''our
national leaders are providing the American people with precisely what
they want." Debt, he notes, is particularly alluring in periods of
partisan intransigence. If the two sides cannot compromise on
priorities, each can take what it wants while dumping the bill on
future generations. Americans used to understand this temptation and
flee it. Thomas Jefferson warned: ''To preserve our independence, we
must not let our rulers load us with perpetual debt. We must make our
election between economy and liberty, or profusion and servitude."
So it may be that some terrible change has come over the national
psychology that admits to only two diagnoses. Either the complexity of
government has outrun the capacity of a democratic public to
understand it, or that public, understanding well the options
Jefferson put before it, has chosen servitude.
Christopher Caldwell is a senior editor at The Weekly Standard
and a columnist for The Financial Times.

NEW YORK TIMES
Homeowners Come Up Short on Insurance
By JOSEPH B. TREASTER
Published: August 31, 2004
EL CAJON, Calif. - Karla and Bruce Carroll remember the sheriff on
his bullhorn ordering residents to evacuate and, minutes later,
hearing the roar of monstrous flames arcing toward their modest home
here in the hills above San Diego.
Mrs. Carroll grabbed a family photo album as they ran to safety;
Mr. Carroll started to gather his fishing rods. But she hustled him
along. "Don't worry about those things,'' she recalls saying at the
time. "We've got insurance."
But, the Carrolls say, the insurance they bought from State Farm,
the nation's largest property insurer, has left them at least $100,000
short of the cost of rebuilding their home. Today, nearly a year
later, they are still wrangling with their insurer and living in a
29-foot-long house trailer on the land where their three-bedroom home
once stood, overlooking a spectacular sweep of ridges and canyons.
Their woeful shortfall in insurance coverage, experts say, is a
plight shared unknowingly by millions of American homeowners. It has
been fed largely by a shift in the way property insurance has been
sold in recent years.
In a move to cut costs from claims, insurance companies began in
the late 1990's to phase out coverage that guaranteed the replacement
of a destroyed home, regardless of the expense to the insurer. In
place of that unlimited coverage, which had become nearly universal,
insurers substituted a similar-sounding policy with a crucial
difference: it pays only the amount stated on the policy plus,
typically, an additional 20 percent to 25 percent.
For their part, insurers insist that it is the consumer's
responsibility to acquire adequate coverage.
The old policy was called a guaranteed replacement policy. The new
one, which most Americans now have, is called an extended replacement
policy.
"People look at this and it says 'replacement' and they think,
'That's good, I get my house replaced,' " said John Garamendi, the
insurance commissioner in California. "But they don't get their house
replaced. They get money up to the set limits plus the extended 20
percent or 25 percent."
Marshall & Swift/Boeckh, a Los Angeles company that most insurers
rely on for help in calculating the value of houses, estimates that 64
percent of American homes are underinsured by an average of 27
percent, with some homes underinsured by 60 percent or more.
Another insurance industry company, AIR Worldwide in Boston,
estimates that many upper-income homes in New England are underinsured
by 30 percent to 40 percent.
"The underinsurance problem lies just beneath the surface all
across the country,'' said Robert P. Hartwig, the chief economist for
the Insurance Information Institute, a trade group in New York.
The insurance gap has been worsened by the nationwide housing boom
that has been rapidly driving up the cost of lumber, bricks, cement
and other construction materials, industry executives say. And in
Southern California, rebuilding costs soared even higher as the demand
for contractors and building supplies suddenly jumped after the
Carrolls' home and several thousand others were destroyed in wildfires
over a few days last October.
But such explanations do not satisfy the industry's critics, who
say insurers have shifted the burden of such mistakes onto homeowners.
"Most people go to their insurance agent to buy coverage and figure
they're fully covered," said J. Robert Hunter, the director for
insurance at the Consumer Federation of America. "But often they're
not."
The issue of underinsurance has not attracted much attention
because, of the millions of insurance claims every year, fewer than 2
percent are for the total loss of a house. But the wildfires here last
fall came as a jolt. They quickly incinerated more than 3,700 homes
and, Mr. Garamendi said, "a very large proportion" of them were
underinsured.
Consumer advocates and industry executives expect similar problems
for the victims of Hurricane Charley in Florida as they begin working
through their claims.
"The problem is everywhere,'' Mr. Hartwig said. "The disasters
simply expose it.''
George Kehrer, a lawyer and building contractor who founded
Community Assisting Recovery in Los Angeles more than a decade ago to
help people with insurance claims after disasters, said he had spoken
to 1,200 people who lost homes in the California fires.
"About a dozen of them,'' he said, "were adequately insured."
No single factor is entirely to blame for the underinsurance,
consumer advocates and industry executives say. Homeowners, they say,
need to recognize their own responsibility.
But under pressure to make sales, Mr. Garamendi and consumer
advocates explain, insurance companies and their agents often aim low
in valuing houses. The goal, they say, is to keep premiums down to
keep customers from going to competitors, and sometimes even a few
dollars can make a difference.
"If they quote a realistic replacement cost, the price of the
policy goes up," Mr. Garamendi said, "so they are motivated to keep
the replacement cost down."
Insurance industry executives argue that it would make no sense to
undervalue homes intentionally. The higher the insurance coverage, the
higher the premium, they point out.
But Mr. Garamendi disagrees. "You want the sale first," he said.
"O.K., you can get a little more premium if you give full coverage.
But you lose the sale."
Mr. Hunter, the consumer advocate, said agents often lacked the
training to assess accurately the value of a home, usually done these
days with the help of a computer program. Rarely do the agents leave
their offices to assess a house personally, agents and industry
executives said.
Mr. Garamendi said some agents inadvertently undervalued homes by
using a computer shortcut to obtain what is known as a "quick quote."
Then, when a customer decides to buy coverage, the agent fails to add
details like designer cabinets and fixtures that tend to increase the
replacement estimate and the cost of the insurance.
While most insurance policies include a built-in escalator to keep
pace with general inflation, the costs of building supplies and paying
for construction crews have been rising at a faster pace, in many
cases widening the gap between the amount a house is insured for and
what it will cost to rebuild it.
Another factor in the insurance gap has been a failure by some
homeowners to increase coverage after the spurt in home improvements,
from new kitchens to extra bedrooms, as millions of Americans have
used cheap money from mortgage refinancings in recent years to upgrade
their homes.
Still, in dozens of interviews over several days this month, owners
of the homes in Southern California that were destroyed said
repeatedly that they had been led to believe they had bought enough
coverage to rebuild their homes and were stunned to find out they were
wrong.
Mrs. Carroll said she first bought her insurance from State Farm in
1998 shortly after she and her husband acquired their home for
$172,500.
"I told them I wanted full coverage for my house," she said. "I've
lived in this area most of my life, and I knew there was a huge fire
risk here. I had been evacuated for fires three times as a child."
Two years later, she said, she checked back with the agent to make
sure she had enough coverage and increased the coverage for possible
additional costs as a result of changes in building codes.
"I said, 'Are you sure this is enough to replace the house?' and
she said, 'Oh, that's plenty of coverage,' " Mrs. Carroll recalled.
"She had me convinced my house could burn or fall down in the canyon
under heavy rains and, yeah, it's covered."
At the time of the fire, the Carrolls' house was insured by State
Farm for $126,000, which, following standard practice, did not reflect
the value of the land. Their annual premium was $730.
With 20 percent in extended replacement coverage and other standard
features including a built-in adjustment for inflation and coverage on
their two-car garage, fences and driveway as well as an additional 25
percent for anticipated building code changes - upgraded by Mrs.
Carroll from the usual 10 percent - the Carrolls estimate their policy
will pay them about $222,000. But Mrs. Carroll said a contractor hired
by State Farm estimated that replacing their losses, not including
their clothing and other personal things, would cost nearly $400,000.
Bill Sirola, a spokesman for State Farm, said it was not clear
whether the Carrolls were underinsured. "We are working with that
family," Mr. Sirola said. "We are working with other builders on their
behalf to get other estimates of their rebuilding costs."
As the insurance companies see it, if people are underinsured it is
primarily their own fault.
"It's the homeowner's responsibility to see that his home is
properly insured," said Mr. Hartwig of the Insurance Information
Institute.
Insurers say the terms of coverage are clearly spelled out in their
policies. In California, insurers are also required to mail a
statement annually specifying the terms of coverage along with renewal
notices.
But many homeowners burned out by last year's fires say they made
clear they wanted to be able to replace their homes. In interviews,
they said they had no way of knowing how much insurance they needed
and relied on the agent to set the proper value and charge the
appropriate price. Many say they would have been willing to pay more
to assure themselves that their losses would be fully covered.
"They're the experts," said Donald McCormick, a high school math
teacher, who lost his home in the Scripps Ranch section of San Diego.
"I don't go to the doctor and tell him how to do surgery."

December 17, 2004 - NEW YORK TIMES - OP-ED
COLUMNIST
Buying Into Failure
By PAUL KRUGMAN
s the Bush administration tries to persuade America to convert
Social Security into a giant 401(k), we can learn a lot from other
countries that have already gone down that road.
Information about other countries' experience with privatization
isn't hard to find. For example, the Century Foundation, at
www.tcf.org, provides a wide range of links.
Yet, aside from giving the Cato Institute and other organizations
promoting Social Security privatization the space to present upbeat
tales from Chile, the U.S. news media have provided their readers and
viewers with little information about international experience. In
particular, the public hasn't been let in on two open secrets:
Privatization dissipates a large fraction of workers' contributions
on fees to investment companies.
It leaves many retirees in poverty.
Decades of conservative marketing have convinced Americans that
government programs always create bloated bureaucracies, while the
private sector is always lean and efficient. But when it comes to
retirement security, the opposite is true. More than 99 percent of
Social Security's revenues go toward benefits, and less than 1 percent
for overhead. In Chile's system, management fees are around 20 times
as high. And that's a typical number for privatized systems.
These fees cut sharply into the returns individuals can expect on
their accounts. In Britain, which has had a privatized system since
the days of Margaret Thatcher, alarm over the large fees charged by
some investment companies eventually led government regulators to
impose a "charge cap." Even so, fees continue to take a large bite out
of British retirement savings.
A reasonable prediction for the real rate of return on personal
accounts in the U.S. is 4 percent or less. If we introduce a system
with British-level management fees, net returns to workers will be
reduced by more than a quarter. Add in deep cuts in guaranteed
benefits and a big increase in risk, and we're looking at a "reform"
that hurts everyone except the investment industry.
Advocates insist that a privatized U.S. system can keep expenses
much lower. It's true that costs will be low if investments are
restricted to low-overhead index funds - that is, if government
officials, not individuals, make the investment decisions. But if
that's how the system works, the suggestions that workers will have
control over their own money - two years ago, Cato renamed its Project
on Social Security Privatization by replacing "privatization" with
"choice" - are false advertising.
And if there are rules restricting workers to low-expense
investments, investment industry lobbyists will try to get those rules
overturned.
For the record, I don't think giving financial corporations a huge
windfall is the main motive for privatization; it's mostly an
ideological thing. But that windfall is a major reason Wall Street
wants privatization, and everyone else should be very suspicious.
Then there's the issue of poverty among the elderly.
Privatizers who laud the Chilean system never mention that it has
yet to deliver on its promise to reduce government spending. More than
20 years after the system was created, the government is still pouring
in money. Why? Because, as a Federal Reserve study puts it, the
Chilean government must "provide subsidies for workers failing to
accumulate enough capital to provide a minimum pension." In other
words, privatization would have condemned many retirees to dire
poverty, and the government stepped back in to save them.
The same thing is happening in Britain. Its Pensions Commission
warns that those who think Mrs. Thatcher's privatization solved the
pension problem are living in a "fool's paradise." A lot of additional
government spending will be required to avoid the return of widespread
poverty among the elderly - a problem that Britain, like the U.S.,
thought it had solved.
Britain's experience is directly relevant to the Bush
administration's plans. If current hints are an indication, the final
plan will probably claim to save money in the future by reducing
guaranteed Social Security benefits. These savings will be an
illusion: 20 years from now, an American version of Britain's
commission will warn that big additional government spending is needed
to avert a looming surge in poverty among retirees.
So the Bush administration wants to scrap a retirement system that
works, and can be made financially sound for generations to come with
modest reforms. Instead, it wants to buy into failure, emulating
systems that, when tried elsewhere, have neither saved money nor
protected the elderly from poverty.

THE NEW YORK TIMES January 14, 2005
Foreign-Profit Tax Break Is Outlined
By EDMUND L. ANDREWS
WASHINGTON, Jan. 13 - The Bush administration outlined rules on
Thursday for a huge one-time tax break for companies that reinvest
their overseas profits back into the United States.
The tax break, which was part of last year's corporate tax bill,
would allow companies to pay a fraction of the normal tax rate on
hundreds of billions of dollars in foreign profits if they pledge to
invest the funds in activities that may create jobs at home.
In a setback for many of the biggest potential beneficiaries, the
Treasury Department said companies could not use their windfalls for
repurchases of stock or increases in shareholder dividends.
Investors reacted with disappointment to the new rules. Stocks of
companies that pushed hard for the tax break - Eli Lilly,
Hewlett-Packard, Merck, Oracle and Pfizer - all declined slightly
after the rules were announced.
The rules would help companies finance some activities that do
little to directly increase employment, and a few - like corporate
acquisitions - that might lead to job cuts.
The Treasury Department said that the tax break could be used to
finance advertising and marketing, even if a company did not plan to
increase its advertising.
The administration said companies could also use their foreign
profits to pay for corporate acquisitions, redeem old debt and spend
on the general purpose of "financial stabilization."
As adopted by Congress last year, the new law would give companies
a one-time opportunity this year to bring a total of as much as $500
billion in foreign profits into the United States and pay a tax rate
of 5.25 percent, instead of the standard corporate tax rate of 35
percent.
Globe-spanning companies like Hewlett-Packard and Eli Lilly have
for years deferred their United States taxes on foreign earnings.
Under traditional tax law, the companies would be required to pay
the full tax rate as soon as they brought the money back into the
country.
The one-time tax break would let companies take advantage of the
lower rate if they put forward a plan to reinvest their profits in
ways that enhance employment in the United States.
The law itself was quite broad, explicitly allowing companies to
allocate their money for "financial stabilization," corporate
acquisitions and research and development.
The Treasury Department, which opposed the provision during the
debate in Congress, gave companies even more latitude.
Under the "guidance" published by the Internal Revenue Service on
Thursday, companies do not face a specific deadline for actually
reinvesting the money and merely have to do so within "a reasonable
time."
Nor do companies have to invest more money on hiring or new
equipment, or even advertising, than they did the year before.
Companies would be able to apply the tax break to investments that
they had already planned before their new "domestic reinvestment
plan," and even to investments that they had already budgeted and
planned to finance with other sources of money.
"The Treasury Department and the I.R.S. do not intend to provide a
template for a domestic reinvestment plan," the administration said in
its set of guidelines, which totals 39 pages.
Despite the unenthusiastic response from investors to the new
rules, the tax break could provide a huge windfall to many technology
and pharmaceutical companies that have earned billions of dollars in
low-tax countries like Ireland.
Oracle, the business-software company, has estimated that its tax
break on foreign profits could be as much as $650 million.
Oracle is hoping to use much of that money to shore up its balance
sheet after buying PeopleSoft last year for $10.4 billion.
Many American multinational corporations have deferred taxes on
foreign profits. Hewlett-Packard, which wants to strengthen its
balance sheet after buying Compaq, has more than $14 billion in
untaxed foreign profits. Merck, the pharmaceutical giant, had $15
billion as of 2003. Johnson & Johnson had $12.3 billion.
Wall Street analysts are divided about whether the tax break will
actually achieve its intended purpose of attracting a rush of new
investment in the United States.
Anne Swope, a tax and foreign exchange analyst at J. P. Morgan,
estimated that American companies had stockpiled more than $500
billion in overseas profits.
"We feel confident that $300 billion of that will be repatriated,"
Ms. Swope said. "The changes in tax law in 1986 made it extremely
difficult for companies to repatriate earnings. This is an opportunity
to provide temporary relief."
But Jan Hatzius, a senior economist at Goldman Sachs, predicted
that the economic impact would be modest because companies have many
ways to use their foreign profits without technically bringing them
back into the country.
"If companies want to access their foreign assets, it's easy to
do," said Mr. Hatzius. "All they have to do is borrow against them."

NYT: February 9, 2005
Retirement Turns Into a Rest Stop as Benefits
Dwindle
By EDUARDO PORTER and MARY WILLIAMS WALSH
LITTLETON, Colo. - For John A. Lemoine, retirement has been hard
work. Forced to take an early pension package at AT&T three years ago,
Mr. Lemoine, 54, a former building manager who once made more than
$70,000 a year handling the operations of several AT&T sites, soon
found that retirement was something he just could not afford.
To supplement the greatly reduced pension he received upon his
retirement, he first took an $11-an-hour job as a maintenance worker
at the Sam's Club up the road from his home here. He retrained as an
X-ray technician, and began earning $17.50 an hour as a part-time
radiology technician for several clinics. Still unable to make ends
meet, he also took a full-time job as a security guard for an hourly
wage of $10.50.
"I put in for other jobs, too," Mr. Lemoine said. "You'd be
surprised who won't hire you because of your age."
Employers had better get used to seeing older people's résumés.
As numerous companies across the country withdraw retiree medical
and dental benefits while others switch to less generous retirement
plans, many aging workers who had expected to ease comfortably out of
the labor force in their 50's and early 60's are discovering that they
do not have the financial resources to support themselves in
retirement. As a result, a lot more of them are returning to work.
Since the mid-1990's, older people have become the fastest-growing
portion of the work force. The Labor Department projects that workers
over 55 will make up 19.1 percent of the labor force by 2012, up from
14.3 percent in 2002.
Until recently, most economists said that older people were being
lured back into the labor force largely because of opportunities
growing out of the vibrant economy of the 1990's. But these days, they
say, many such Americans are being drawn to work out of necessity
rather than choice.
As the nation gears up for a fundamental debate over the future of
Social Security, these circumstances hint at potential changes in the
federal program that supports more than 40 million elderly Americans.
Just as companies are seeking ways to reduce their roles in
financing former employees in retirement, many economists say that the
Social Security program should also scale back in response to the
aging of the population.
Some have pointed out that continuing to raise the official
retirement age in step with increases in Americans' average longevity
could probably guarantee Social Security's solvency forever.
"Policies promoting longer working life could ameliorate some of
the potential demographic stresses," Alan Greenspan, the Federal
Reserve chairman, told a conference of economists and policy makers in
Jackson Hole, Wyo., last year. "Early initiatives to address the
economic effects of baby-boom retirements could smooth the transition
to a new balance between workers and retirees."
To some extent, that transition is already under way - although not
in the way Mr. Greenspan, 78 himself, proposed. As they stay longer in
their jobs or peruse the help-wanted ads for post-retirement
employment, Americans are reversing what had been a nearly
century-long decline in the participation of older people in the work
force.
"Everyone that I talked to is looking at working part time," said
Jim Drummond, 59, a 37-year veteran of US Airways in Pittsburgh who
retired on Jan. 1 and whose pension plan recently failed and was taken
over by the federal government. "The pension is not enough unless you
are single and living alone."
Gerald Fronek, 62, an electrician for Lucent Technologies in
Lockport, Ill., now plans to retire in April, five years after his
original plan was thwarted by the collapse of Lucent's stock in 2000,
which took most of his lifetime savings with it.
"I was dealt a bad card," Mr. Fronek said. "I just have to forget
about that and move ahead."
Necessity, Not Choice
Made to carry more of the burden of their retirement, many retirees
say they feel that a social compact between workers and employers - a
set of expectations established over the second half of the 20th
century - is being dismantled.
Not only are many discovering that they cannot afford to retire,
they are also finding themselves in a labor market in which companies
facing tough competition seem intent on controlling costs, partly by
ridding themselves of higher-earning older workers.
"I spent 25 years with this company," Mr. Lemoine said. "When we
were hired at Ma Bell there was this premise that the more dedication
you gave the company, the more they would take care of you."
The steepest turnaround in labor participation has occurred among
older men. The percentage of men 55 to 64 years old in the work force
fell steadily from 87 percent in 1950 to under 65 percent in 1994.
Then it began inching back up, reaching 69 percent last year,
according to the Labor Department. Among men 65 and older, the
participation rate rose from 15 percent in 1994 to 19 percent last
year.
For older women, who entered the labor force at increasing rates
through the 1950's and 1960's, the change has been less pronounced.
Nevertheless, the rate of participation for women over 55, after
declining from around 26 percent in the late 1960's to nearly 21
percent in the mid-1980's, has rebounded over the last two decades, to
31 percent.
A big factor keeping people in the work force later is Social
Security itself, which until recently provided relatively generous
benefits for people retiring as early as 62 and discouraged work after
65.
But in 1983, to deal with Social Security's first financial crisis,
Washington approved a law to raise the normal retirement age from 65
to 67 and increase the benefit paid to people who kept working for
additional years. That law only began to bite for those retiring after
2002.
Many economists say that older Americans under 65, and therefore
not yet eligible for Medicare, are being forced to accept work they
might have disdained earlier so they can afford health insurance and
pay for other necessities.
"In the recessions through the 1980's and even in the early 1990's,
the biggest drop in participation rates was among people in their 50's
and 60's," said Gary Burtless, an economist at the Brookings
Institution who studies retirement issues.
But "that has not been true since 2000," he said. "My gut feeling
is that what changed is the persistence and willingness of older
workers to accept a job that would not have been to their liking 15 or
20 years ago."
Joe Janson, for example, retired three years ago, when he was 55,
from an $83,000-a-year engineering job at Lucent to a $35,000 pension.
But now he is looking for work again to pay for his family's health
insurance, which Lucent cut last year.
And he is not setting his sights high. In January, he and his wife,
Mary, made $140 in two days delivering phone books for Qwest. "If I
have to," he said, "I will drive a school bus."
Working Older and Longer
Among the most vulnerable workers are those who made their careers
at some of the titans of yore - companies like United Airlines, AT&T
and Bethlehem Steel.
In the labor-abundant baby boom era, large companies could offer
generous benefit packages and valuable incentives for early
retirement. Big unions like the Teamsters and the United Automobile
Workers promoted early retirement, too, to clear the way for new
hiring.
Today, after rounds of downsizings, many companies have sharply cut
their work forces to survive intensified competition from home and
abroad, only to be left with large pools of retirees collecting
benefits far longer than predicted.
Lucent, for instance, has only 20,000 active workers in the United
States to generate the business needed to help support nearly 120,000
retirees, whose health care last year cost about $775 million, an
amount equal to 70 percent of Lucent's net profit. So the company has
been aggressively paring the health insurance it offers its retirees,
prompting older employees to rethink their retirement plans.
"We simply cannot afford to absorb U.S. retiree health care costs
at this level and remain a sustainable, competitive company," Lucent
notified its management retirees last September in explaining a new
round of health benefit cuts.
As companies have whittled away at benefit packages, they have
pushed their retirees back to work.
The first step was the dismantling of many traditional pensions:
the defined-benefit plans that offer a predetermined monthly income
after retirement, and usually offer incentives for early retirees.
Companies have been steadily replacing such plans with
defined-contribution plans in which workers save a portion of their
pay for retirement tax-deferred, and companies contribute a partial
match.
As recently as 1979, the Center for Retirement Research at Boston
College found more than 80 percent of the workers covered by a company
retirement plan had a defined-benefit pension. By 2001, the percentage
had dropped to a little over 40 percent.
The dismantling of traditional defined-benefit pensions left many
older workers - who had accumulated pension credit under the old
system - feeling short-changed. "They did us wrong," said Mr. Lemoine,
who says that a realignment of AT&T's pension plan in 1996 slashed his
benefits. He joined a retiree organization that is supporting a
lawsuit against AT&T over the changes.
According to Stephen Bruce, a lawyer for the plaintiffs, Mr.
Lemoine's final pension - valued by the company at $135,000, which he
took as a $70,500 lump sum plus $402 a month - was less than half of
what he would have been due under the previous defined-benefit system.
Citing the lawsuit, an AT&T spokesman said the company could not
comment on the matter.
Health Benefits Hold Sway
Even more critical has been the collapse of company-paid health
insurance for retirees, prodding growing numbers of workers to hang on
to some job, almost any job, to keep their health coverage until
Medicare kicks in at 65.
In 1988, two-thirds of all large employers offered health benefits
to retirees; last year only about one-third did. And employers who
offer coverage are forcing workers to shoulder more of the cost. In
2004, 79 percent of them increased their retirees' premiums. A survey
by Watson Wyatt, a corporate-benefits consulting firm, found that the
absence of company-financed retiree health insurance increased the
average retirement age by two years for women and 1.5 years for men.
"In this day and age," said Jonathan Gruber, a professor of
economics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, "retiree
health insurance is perhaps the biggest single determinant of
retirement."
Mr. Janson, the former Lucent engineer, agrees with that. Even
though he has two teenage daughters at home and his wife, Mary, does
not work outside the home, he could afford to stay retired, he said,
as long as Lucent kept paying for his family's health insurance. But
last year Lucent stopped paying for his dependents' coverage. That
left him with an extra monthly bill of about $500.
"We were making it before they took medical away," Mr. Janson said.
"It's kind of like the company pulling the rug out from under me now."
Mr. Janson is also suffering because he put most of his retirement
savings into Lucent stock. Shares he bought at $80 are now trading at
less than $4 and his nest egg - worth about $700,000 in 1999, he said
- is now less than $150,000.
For Americans heading into retirement, the contrast to the previous
generation is stark. The typical household headed by a 47- to
64-year-old is poorer today, in constant dollars, than a similar
household was in 1983. The main reason is the disappearance of the
traditional pension, according to Edward N. Wolff, a New York
University economist who analyzed Federal Reserve wealth data.
Mr. Lemoine is lucky that AT&T still offers health insurance that
covers his family, even though the monthly premium of $421.52 is more
than his pension check. A head injury in a car accident in August
ended his stints as a security guard and part-time X-ray technician.
That shifted the financial burden of a four-teenager household onto
his wife, Susan, 41, who draws a modest salary as a paralegal. Mr.
Lemoine's 80-year-old mother also pitches in, lending the family
money.
The ordeal has profoundly changed Susan Lemoine's outlook on the
future.
"I will work," she said, "until the day I die."
Eduardo Porter reported from Littleton, Colo., for this article,
and Mary Williams Walsh from New York.
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